


Lipstick

by saltythumbtack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean is an ass but only for a little bit, Eventual Smut, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltythumbtack/pseuds/saltythumbtack
Summary: Cas discovers makeup and Dean discovers his sexuality. Along the way to help him are an irritated brother and a siren.





	1. Chapter 1

“What’s that?”  
Sam looked up, taking a sip from his soda. “What’s what, Cas?” The angel pointed to a display across the street, Sam following his finger. “Oh, it’s makeup.” Sam said casually, returning to his salad. “What’s makeup?” Dean sighed, looking up at the angel. Cas was staring at the display, eyes roaming over rows of lipsticks and eyeliners. “It’s stuff that girls put on to make themselves prettier.” Dean said, returning to his burger. Cas nodded seriously, and Sam rolled his eyes. He was tempted to tell Cas that guys could wear it too, but Dean would never let him hear the end of it if he did. “May I try it?” The angel asked. Dean choked on his burger, staring up Cas incredulously. “Yes, you can.” Sam said firmly, before Dean could say anything. Sam stood up, pulling the angel along, and they crossed over to the display. Dean trailed behind them, disapproval emanating off of him in waves. Sam, on the other hand, was determined to let Cas wear makeup if he wanted to. Dean took after John in certain ways, most notably sharing his views that boys didn’t wear makeup and boys were supposed to be masculine. Sam had clashed with both of them repeatedly, and he didn’t want Cas to be in the same situation that he’d been. “What do you want to try, Cas?” Sam asked, ignoring Dean’s snort of contempt from behind him. Cas hesitated, transfixed by the possibilities, before pointing to a few of the lipsticks. Sam marched Cas into the store, refusing to look at Dean, who resolutely stayed outside. A few moments later, Sam and Cas emerged, Cas clutching a small bag of goodies. “Thank you, Sam.” Cas said, and Sam waved him off. “It’s not a big deal, Cas. Don’t worry about it.” Cas smiled, clearly excited. Dean didn’t look at either of them for the entire drive back to the bunker.  
A few days had passed since the makeup incident, and Dean had been a bitch. He mocked Sam more frequently and harshly than usual, and had been downright frosty towards Cas, leaving the poor angel hurt and confused. Sam was stewing, but for Cas’ sake, he wasn’t going to blow up at Dean over this. They hadn’t had these kinds of arguments in years, probably not since before Sam went to college, and it was an argument that Sam wanted to avoid having. Sam could handle Dean being a bitch, but if Dean kept treating Cas like this, then Sam would have to talk to him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Sam was pulled out of his thoughts when Dean shuffled into the kitchen, hair mussed from sleep and yawning. “Morning.” Sam offered, hoping that maybe Dean would have pulled his head out of his ass overnight. Dean gave him a sideways glance, before grudgingly responding. “Morning.” Dean puttered around the kitchen, getting out ingredients for pancakes. The smell of sizzling batter filled the air, and Sam’s stomach growled. “Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, feigned casualness evident in his voice. “Why? You gonna apologize to him for being a bitch?” Sam retorted, watching Dean’s reaction over the rim of his coffee mug. Dean looked for a moment as though he was going to snap back, but he swallowed that down. He sighed. “Yeah, actually, I need to apologize to him. You know how I feel about guys wearing makeup, but that doesn’t mean that Cas can’t try it. He’s an angel, he doesn’t know any better, and besides, it doesn’t really impact me.” Sam blinked, surprised. Dean was actually going to apologize? That was a first.  
“Apology accepted, Dean.” came a gravelly voice from the doorway. Sam and Dean jumped, Dean nearly slipping. He swore viciously, turning to face Cas. “Christ, Cas, give a guy a warning next time.” Cas chuckled, and Sam noticed something. “Cas...are you wearing lipstick?” Cas smiled proudly. “Yes, I am. Do you like it?” Sam studied the angel’s mouth for a moment, taking in the magenta lipstick that Cas had applied. “Yeah, I like it.” Cas’ face broke into a huge grin, and he turned excitedly to Dean. “What about you? Do you like it?” Dean was slack-jawed, staring wide-eyed at Cas. “Dean? You okay?” Sam asked, taken aback by his brother’s reaction. Cas leaned forward, concerned, and reached out to touch Dean. Dean panicked and bolted from the kitchen, moving rapidly past Sam to avoid Cas, and no Sam did not just see a bulge in Dean’s sweatpants because that was not okay. Cas looked at Sam, confusion furrowing his brow, and Sam shrugged. “I think you broke him, Cas.” “That was not my intention. How do I fix him?” Sam laughed. “Give him some time, Cas. I don’t think he was expecting any of that this morning.” Cas nodded, still a little perplexed, but he stopped asking. Sam caught him sending the occasionally questioning glance in the direction Dean had gone, but the angel made no move to follow Dean.  
Dean locked himself in the bathroom, head spinning. He stumbled over to the sink, gripping it tightly. Cas was wearing lipstick. Cas was wearing goddamn magenta lipstick. Fuck. Dean sank down onto the floor, cradling his head in his hands. His breathing was loud and ragged, and fuck, he was hard. “What the hell.” He said aloud, his voice low and husky. He tried to slow down his breathing, to get some control over the situation, anything but thinking about how that damn lipstick looked on Cas and how much he’d like to see that lipstick smeared messily on Cas’ face, wet from kissing, or how that lipstick would look with Cas’ lips stretched around his co--“No.” Dean croaked, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched at that fantasy. He shut his eyes tightly, hearing John’s voice in his head yelling at him that he wasn’t gay, that boys didn’t wear makeup, that this was wrong...Dean clamped his hands over his ears, attempting to block out John’s voice. “I’m not gay.” Dean muttered quietly, his voice breaking. “I’m not gay.”  
Dean had never jacked off more frequently in his life. It seemed like one meal couldn’t go by without Dean having to excuse himself to the bathroom, visions of Cas’ smudged lipstick fueling his need. The angel seemed to enjoy the lipstick, and kept returning to a dark pink color that drove Dean crazy. Cas didn’t seem to notice the impact his lipstick had on Dean, but Sam certainly had. He’d been giving Dean suspicious looks ever since he first ran out of the kitchen, and it had finally dawned on him after one memorable incident. They were drinking beers around the table, and for once, Cas was drinking too. Since it took consuming quite literally an entire liquor store to get Cas drunk, it was more a companionship thing, but no one objected. Dean had been sending him sidelong glances all night, trying to keep his breathing steady as the angel took occasional drinks from the bottle. The breaking point came when Cas wrapped his lips around the bottle and took a long pull, titling his head back. Dean’s breath hitched, and he watched, transfixed, as Cas put down the bottle, leaving a trace of lipstick behind. Dean made a small, choked noise of desperation, and Sam gave him a suspicious look. Cas was oblivious, licking his lips to catch a stray drop of alcohol, and Dean stood up so suddenly that he knocked his chair to the ground. All eyes turned to him, and he stammered out an explanation of wanting to check on Baby before stumbling out of the kitchen.  
Since that incident, Sam had given him questioning looks every time Cas walked into a room wearing lipstick. Dean knew that sooner or later, Sam was going to ask him why he kept running off any time he had to be around Cas for extended periods of time, and he didn’t have an explanation. Whenever he tried to figure out why he reacted to Cas wearing lipstick so strongly, it lead to questioning some deep-seated, long-held beliefs, and then he drank too much and woke up hungover and confused. His fantasies grew more vivid with each passing day, vague visions of smeared lipstick evolving into full-blown wet dreams that occurred with alarming frequency. He kept telling himself that he wasn’t gay, that he wasn’t attracted to Cas, but it felt more hollow each time. It was kind of difficult to insist that he didn’t like Cas when he jacked off to fantasies involving the angel every day, but Dean had always had a special talent for burying his feelings. Dean knew that if he talked to Sam about it, then Sam would hit him over the head and tell him that he liked Cas and that he should just kiss the stupid angel already, so he judiciously avoided talking to Sam about it. A knock at his door pulled him out of his reverie. “Come in.” He called, absentmindedly thumbing through his phone. The door opened. It was Cas.  
Dean jerked upright, dropping his phone. Cas was standing in the door to his room, head cocked innocently. Dean’s mind raced, trying to figure out what was happening. “Hello, Dean.” Cas said calmly. “Hey.” Dean said, hating how breathless he sounded. Why did being around Cas turn him into a damn teenager? “What’s up?” He said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Sam said that I should talk to you.” Dean swore quietly. “What did Sam say that we needed to talk about?” He asked, and Cas looked away, staring at the carpet as he mumbled, “My lipstick.” Dean was speechless for a moment, fury boiling under his skin. What did Sam think he was doing?! Now he was going to have to think up some bullshit excuse so that Cas didn’t get suspicious. Cas moved over to the bed and awkwardly settled down next to Dean, keeping a carefully measured distance between them. “Do you think we need to talk about your lipstick?” Dean said, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice level. “You have had very unusual reactions to it.” Cas said carefully. “Sam thinks I haven’t noticed, but I have. You have the strongest reaction to the dark pink lipstick, which is the one I wear the most often. It’s the one I’m wearing right now, and you alternate between staring at my lips and refusing to look at me. It’s very odd.” Dean was scarlet by the time Cas finished talking. Had he really been that obvious? He opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. Cas turned to face him, and when Dean looked away, Cas reached out and touched Dean’s face. Dean reluctantly turned to face Cas, barely meeting his eyes. “Dean,” Cas said softly, “What’s going on?” Dean shook his head mutely. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he didn’t want to do anything stupid, and so he’d just stay quiet until Cas left. Cas was speaking again, but Dean tuned him out. Cas’ mouth was so close, it’d be so easy to lean forward just a little, to close the gap between them. Cas trailed off, realizing that Dean’s attention was focused elsewhere. The angel studied Dean’s face, taking in the look of barely disguised need, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Dean’s.  
Dean was frozen. Cas was kissing him, actually kissing him. It was...nice, actually. Cas’ stubble scraped against Dean’s chin, a new but not unwelcome sensation. Cas went to pull back, but Dean made a small noise of protest and leaned forward, unwilling to break the contact. Dean’s hand snaked to the back of Cas’ head, holding him in place and deepening the kiss. Cas inhaled Dean’s scent, a combination of whiskey and flannel, and sighed against Dean’s mouth. Dean pulled Cas onto his lap, momentarily breaking the kiss. He glanced up, catching a glimpse of the angel’s face, and fuck, his lipstick was smeared. Dean made a slight whimpering noise, and Cas kissed him hungrily, Dean’s head hitting the headboard behind them. Dean tipped his head back, letting Cas kiss him sloppily. What the angel lacked in experience and finesse, he made up for in enthusiasm, and Dean was rapidly growing hard. Cas’ hips jutted forward slightly, pressing against Dean, and Dean froze. There was a guy on top of him. He was kissing a guy. A guy with lipstick on, which was no doubt all over Dean’s face now. The room spun, and Dean felt sick. He pushed Cas off of him, the angel making a noise of confusion, and Dean stood up shakily. Cas reached towards him, clearly confused, but Dean’s skin crawled when Cas touched him. “No, no, no…” Dean mumbled, panic bubbling inside of him. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. He stumbled out of the room, leaving Cas alone and confused in his room.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean clutched the sink, knuckles white on the stone. He could hear John’s voice in his head, calling him a fag, and Dean let out a small, choked sob. John was right, John was always damn right. Dean felt sick. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, pale and shaking, and felt tears burn, unbidden, in his eyes. Dean sank slowly to the floor, cradling his head between his hands. His breathing was short, shallow, and uneven, panic gripping him like a vise. The room spun drunkenly, and Dean closed his eyes tightly, trying not to throw up. He felt like he’d just woken up after a night of heaving drinking. His head was pounding, heart thumping painfully in his chest, mouth dry and cracked. Dean tried not to retch as a wave of nausea rolled over him. He’d kissed a guy. Not just any guy, a fucking angel of the lord. He’d had a moaning angel of the lord on his freaking lap. A tear tracked down his face, and Dean tried in vain to hold them back. A sob wracked his body, and he curled in on himself, devolving into a shaking, crying mess. An eternity passed, and finally Dean stopped shaking enough to slowly stand on weak, unwilling legs. He stared at his reflection, almost not recognizing the man staring back at him. Dean wasn’t that person in the mirror. Dean didn’t have lipstick smeared faintly around his mouth. Dean didn’t spend twenty minutes crying on the bathroom floor. Dean Winchester wasn’t a fag. Dean squared his shoulders resolutely, wiping off the traces of lipstick, and said aloud: “I am not a fag. I am not gay, nor am I bi, nor am I a baby.” His voice was strong, determined, unwavering. That was the voice of a Winchester. That was the voice of the man that John had raised him to be. 

It’d been a few days since the incident, as Dean referred to it, and Cas had made no effort to talk to Dean about what happened. He’d avoided any awkward questions from Sam, as Cas seemed to have warned him off, and it was almost like it had never happened. Almost. There were still times where Dean woke up in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, cock hard and throbbing, the ghostly sensation of Cas’ lips tingling over his skin. On those nights, Dean lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying those moments with Cas in his head over and over, chest aching with something that felt suspiciously like loneliness. He drowned that loneliness with whiskey, beer, and porn, losing himself in pretty girls and bottles. The ache never really went away, but he’d learned to live with worse. Cas had stopped wearing the dark pink lipstick, and a small part of Dean mourned that loss. The angel hadn’t stopped wearing lipstick entirely, seeming to feel that he looked too good to stop over a mere sexuality crisis, and by now Sam and Dean had grown used to it. Dean stopped excusing himself during meals, though what he did in the shower was still questionable, and Sam had resigned himself to watching Dean melt slightly every time the angel entered a room. Fortunately for Sam’s sanity, a case had popped up, involving...

“A siren? Are you frickin’ kidding me?”  
Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on Dean, we’ve dealt with sirens before.” “Yeah, and we nearly killed each other! Did you forget that part?” Dean snapped, pacing furiously around the room. Cas sat silently, watching the two hunters argue, head cocked in that curious way of his. “Do we even know if it’s a siren? Leave it alone for a day or two, and if any leads pop up, then we’ll go check it out.” “Leave it alone?! Dean, people are dying!” Sam cried angrily, and Dean spun around to face his brother. “Sam, both of us would’ve died last time if it hadn’t been for Bobby. Look around! Do you see Bobby anywhere? Cause I sure as hell don’t. If we go after that siren, we’re gonna end up in a world of hurt.” “You just don’t want to go after it because you’re afraid you’ll jump Cas’ bones again!” A tense silence fell, danger crackling in the air. “What did you just say to me?” Dean hissed menacingly, and for a moment, Sam looked like he would back down. Then the hunter’s squared his broad shoulders, met his brother’s furious gaze, and said calmly, “I said you don’t want to go because you’re afraid you’ll jump Cas’ bones. Again.” Sam placed a touch of emphasis on the word “again”, and Dean’s face contorted with rage. He stalked towards his brother, but suddenly found himself unable to move, frozen in place. Confusion flashed momentarily over his face, before his eyes found Cas. The angel hadn’t moved from his chair, but the look in his eyes sent a chill down the hunter’s spine.

“If you two are unable to keep from tearing at each other’s throats, then I will be forced to separate you.” Cas said, and Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor. Sam’s cheeks, already flushed with anger, were now tinged with a trace of shame. “Now,” the angel continued calmly, “If I may offer my input, I believe both of you have a point.” Dean made a noise of protest, but stilled quickly when Cas fixed him with an icy glare. “Dean is right. The siren set you two against each other, and were it not for Bobby’s timely intervention, you would both doubtless have ended up dead. However,” here Cas paused, studying Dean’s face. “However, Sam’s assumption, while flawed, still had some truth to it. I am not immune to the siren’s song, and if I were to be affected, I would likely attempt to…” The angel cleared his throat, a touch of red coloring his cheeks. “Yes, well, I’m sure you can fill in the blanks there. The point is, both of you are right. Sirens are dangerous and we shouldn’t rush into this blindly. I suggest that we investigate these killings, but proceed with caution moving forwards. Is that an acceptable compromise for both of you?” The hunters nodded mutely, and Cas sighed with relief. There was still palpable tension between the hunters, but Dean’s anger had at least been abated. “I’m gonna go read up on some lore.” Sam said, standing up and exiting the room quickly. Dean glared after him, clearly unwilling to forgive his brother’s comments. “You should go check that the Impala has enough supplies.” Cas said quietly, in a manner that made it obvious that it wasn’t a suggestion. Dean’s jaw tensed, but he nodded and walked away, the muscles on his back tense with anger. Cas let out a long sigh, getting up to join Sam in studying the lore.

“Sorry about that.” Sam muttered quietly, not looking up from his book. Across from him, Cas was poring over a massive book on monster lore, concentration furrowing his brow. “It’s not me you need to apologize to, Sam, but thank you.” Cas replied. Sam shook his head, making a slight noise of disgust. “I’ll apologize to Dean when he pulls his head out of his ass.” Cas cocked his head. “I wasn’t aware that was possible. How did Dean get his head stuck-” Sam laughed, cutting the angel off. “It’s a figure of speech, Cas. It means that he’s being stubborn and clueless.” Cas nodded in understanding, returning to his book. The silence between them stretched comfortably, before Sam sighed and put down his book. “Cas, Dean likes you. He won’t admit it, to himself or to anyone else, but he likes you.” Cas copied Sam’s motion, putting down his book and looking up. “I have loved Dean since I raised him from Hell, but I won’t push him. If he is content with staring at me, then I will let him. If he wants more...he will tell me.” Sam let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s won’t tell you, Cas. That’s the problem. He’s too worried about not being masculine to admit that he has feelings for you. You need to do something, because otherwise he never will.” Cas didn’t respond for a moment. He hadn’t told Sam what had happened between him and Dean that night, but what Sam told him about Dean’s fear of losing his masculinity helped put the hunter’s reaction in perspective. “Thank you, Sam. I will consider what you’ve said.” The tall hunter smiled, clearly relieved by Cas’ response, and they returned to their books, only speaking to share tidbits of information about sirens.

Dean lay in his bed, muscles sore and aching. He’d spent the afternoon washing Baby, cleaning guns, and running through a long checklist of supplies that might be needed on the upcoming hunt. He rolled over, groaning as his back twinged painfully, trying to find a comfortable position to settle in. Dean pummelled his pillow, attempting to beat it into submission, before throwing it back down onto the bed. It was no use. He was wound up from the argument earlier today, and thinking about the way Cas had just frozen him in place...well, several of the more inventive possibilities had been running through his mind all afternoon. A small groan of frustration escaped him as his cock perked up, and Dean hit his pillow again, exasperated. It was bad enough that he’d been mildly horny all afternoon, but now, when all he wanted to do was sleep, it was torture. Still, relieving the pressure before bed would be better than trying to ignore it, and maybe a good orgasm would help him sleep. He trailed a hand down his stomach, slowly dipping a finger under his boxers. Normally, he’d tease himself a little, running a finger over his cock as it swelled and grew, but he was too wound up for that tonight. He settled into a steady rhythm, pumping his cock slowly, while his mind wandered, finally settling on Cas. His breathing hitched as a wild fantasy played out, Cas’ lips stretched around his cock, pink lipstick smearing and mixing with precome, the angel’s blue eyes looking up at him innocently. Cas would let him fuck his mouth, the head of Dean’s cock hitting the back of his throat, moaning around his length. Dean’s back arched, panting as he imagined the angel’s tongue swirling over his slit, collecting the precome that had gathered there, and Dean’s hips stuttered, his breathing fast and ragged. He moaned Cas’ name, almost like a prayer, as his hand moved quickly over his aching cock, driving him closer and closer to orgasm. His hips jerked, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat, Cas’ name on his tongue as he came, wishing he could paint the angel’s pretty face with his cum. Dean collapsed onto the bed, a wave of exhaustion rolling over him, trying to ignore the guilt that tore at his stomach. He closed his eyes, focusing on the afterglow of his orgasm, while tiny voices that sounded like John Winchester screamed at him for fantasizing about his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has much more plot and smut than I intended. Apologies for the poorly written porn.


	3. Chapter 3

They’d been driving for roughly four hours when the growling of Sam’s stomach became too loud to ignore. Dean couldn’t deny the pangs of hunger that had been stabbing him for the past hour, and Cas didn’t care one way or the other. The Impala crunched over a rough gravel road, pulling into the parking lot of a largely-empty diner. Dean sighed, turning the key, hearing the car’s engine rumble to a halt.

“I’m starving.” Dean announced, and Sam nodded eagerly in agreement. Cas sat quietly in the backseat, pondering the hunters. They had been furious with each other yesterday, but today they were joking and laughing like nothing had ever happened. What odd creatures humans were. The hunters were staring at him, and Cas realized that they must have asked him a question.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted. What did you say?” Cas asked. Dean rolled his eyes and Sam thumped his brother on the arm. “We asked if you were coming in with us, or if you wanted to fly off somewhere for a little. We can call you back when we’re leaving.” Cas shook his head. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t mind. I will join you two in the diner.” Sam smiled at the angel, clearly pleased by his choice. Dean caught Cas’ eye in the rearview mirror, and the angel’s mouth twitched in a small smile. Dean’s heart lurched in his chest, and he tore his eyes away, opening his door and stepping out into the sun.

The door of the diner opened noisily, a small bell dinging over their heads. A curvy, brunette waitress gave Dean a sultry smile, and the hunter returned it easily, flashing his teeth in her direction. The girl ducked her head, blushing slightly, and Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Dean seemed to be hitting on the woman, and for some reason Cas’ stomach churned at the thought of Dean and the waitress having...relations. Sam, who was used to his brother’s antics, let out a long sigh, pulling Dean into a booth. The waitress bounced over, unaffected by Cas’ glare, and gave Dean a coy look.

“Get you boys anything?” She asked, winking at Dean. Dean opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off. “He’ll have a burger, fries, and a beer, I’ll have a salad and water, and…” Sam looked doubtfully at Cas, trying to gauge whether or not the angel wanted food, before shrugging slightly and finishing “And that’ll be all, thanks.” The waitress’ smile vanished, replaced by heavy irritation. She snapped her gum, glaring at Sam, and stalked off. Dean waited until she was out of earshot before turning to Sam. “Dude, what the hell?! She was hot!” Dean hissed, hitting his brother on the arm. Sam looked at Dean like he was a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe. “Dean, you can go a week without sleeping with some random chick.” Dean made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, and Cas laughed. The hunters looked up, surprised, and Cas copied Sam’s earlier shrugging motion. Sam ran his fingers through his hair, standing up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Don’t hit on the waitress.”

Dean grunted dismissively, waving Sam off. An uncomfortable silence fell, and Dean played with the saltshaker to avoid looking at Cas. Cas’ gaze wandered, taking in the diners’ other patrons. A grizzled man in his mid-forties was nursing a cup of coffee, staring openly at Cas. The angel cocked his head, returning the stare. The man was looking at his mouth, lips curled in disgust. Confused, Cas opened his mouth to say something, but the stranger beat him to it.

“Whatcha want, fag?”

The stranger had a slight drawl, similar to the one that Dean possessed. Cas’ confusion deepened. He’d been around humans for thousands of years, but this word...this word was new. “What do you mean?” Cas asked, and the stranger’s scowl grew more pronounced. “Fuck you, fag.” The man spat, and Cas’ head snapped back as though he’d been slapped. “What did you say?” Dean growled, and Cas was surprised to see the look of fury on the hunter’s face. “Dean, please, it’s fine.” Cas said, but Dean brushed him off. “Shut up, Cas.” The stranger laughed, and it made Cas’ skin crawl. It wasn’t a cheerful laugh. It was dark and cold. “Defending your boyfriend? Figures.” Dean stood abruptly, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Say that again and I’ll beat your brains in, you son of a bitch.” The stranger’s eyes narrowed as he stood, and Cas had a vague feeling that he should stop Dean, but another part of him wanted to see the stranger get hurt. Besides, the angel rationalized, he shouldn’t reveal his powers to a human.

Dean was slowly advancing towards the stranger, hands now hanging loosely by his sides. There was a quiet strength to him, anger and muscle coiling under tanned skin, waiting to explode. The stranger was eyeing Dean warily, disgust quickly being replaced by fear. He began to retreat, but Dean was between him and the door. He glanced behind him briefly, trying to avoid walking into a table, and Dean pounced. The stranger had just started to turn back around when Dean’s fist collided solidly with his cheek. He staggered, and Dean pressed forward, a flurry of punches landing on the stranger’s face. Cas was frozen. He should do something, he should stop Dean, but something inside him wanted the stranger to hurt. The angel watched, entranced, as blood began to run down the man’s face, Dean mercilessly beating him. Cas was breathing heavily. Something about the raw power surging through Dean, the way his muscles bunched and tightened, the fury on his face, transfixed the angel.

Luckily for the stranger, Sam emerged from the bathroom before Dean could do any more damage. The tall hunter took one look at the situation before moving rapidly towards the fighting men, pulling Dean off of the stranger. The other man slumped limply, head lolling back, face a mess of blood and half-formed bruises. Dean’s chest was heaving, eyes full of murderous hatred. “Leave.” Dean spat, and the stranger rushed to oblige, staggering away as quickly as he could. Dean’s eyes tracked him to the door, and the hunter didn’t unclench his hands until the man’s car had pulled away from the diner. Sam spun on his brother, slapping him hard across the face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam hissed, and Dean glared up at him. “He called Cas a fag.” Sam’s expression rapidly went from anger to understanding to horrified rage, and he turned to glare in the direction that the stranger had gone. The brothers stared at each other, before Sam ducked his head and mumbled a quiet “Sorry.” Dean nodded curtly, brushing past Sam and stalking out of the diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten a couple of comments about formatting, and I tried to make it better here. Sorry for the short update. For future reference, this will update at least once a week, depending on how much time I have.


	4. Chapter 4

“Why was Dean so upset?” Cas asked quietly. They’d driven a few more hours after the incident in the diner, the tension almost palpable as the silence stretched. Dean had pulled into a decent-looking motel, storming into the bathroom to shower almost as soon as they’d finished unloading the Impala. Sam was on his laptop by the window, skimming through the headlines for any news of the supposed siren, and Cas was absentmindedly watching tv. Sam hesitated, checking to make sure that Dean was still in the shower before answering.

“It’s a derogatory term for someone who’s gay. Our dad used to...well, he used to call us that a lot, and Dean hated it.”

“Why would your father use such a rude term to describe your sexuality?” Cas asked, confusion wrinkling his brow. Sam ran a hand through his hair ruefully. “Our dad wasn’t the greatest guy, Cas. He thought that since I didn’t want to hunt, I wasn’t a true Winchester. I was never manly enough to make him happy, always prefered reading books to fixing cars...Dean was always his favorite…” Sam trailed off, forcing out a laugh. “Still, Dean didn’t get off easy. Good ol’ dad called him a fag more often than me. Said that Dean would fall for some pretty-boy with a shitty car and get fucked in the backseat.” He said bitterly. Cas was silent, waiting for Sam to continue. The hunter was tracing a finger over the surface of the table, a disgusted sneer curling his lip.

“He used to beat us. Dean first; he was always closest to the door. Said it was in case any monsters followed Dad back, but the real monster was always Dad. He’d come back late after a hunt, smelling like cheap beer, and lay into us. Call Dean a fag and tell him how shit of a hunter he was, say he was an embarrassment to the Winchester name. Then me. I’d be screaming and crying for him to stop hurting Dean, and eventually he’d get sick of it and smack me. Dean would try to help, but he’d just taken a beating, so there wasn’t much he could do. He’d tell me that my hair was girly, that I wasn’t a real man, that he was ashamed to have a failure like me as a son.” 

Cas awkwardly patted Sam on the back. It felt like insufficient comfort, given what the hunter had just told him, but Cas didn’t know what to do. “Your father is...an assbutt.” Cas mumbled, trying to process everything he’d just been told. John Winchester had beaten his children. He had called them horrible, awful things, and Dean...Dean had believed him. Sam had rebelled, Sam was used to rebelling, but Dean was loyal. Dean was a loyal son who did what he was told and believed what he was told to believe. Anger swelled up inside him, and Cas fought hard to keep it down. Dean believed that he was an embarrassment. Dean clung to alcohol, girls, and hunting because he was taught that they were the only things that had worth. Cas’ vision blurred, throat tight with sadness and anger. This was unacceptable. He would show Dean how much he was worth.

“Finished with story time?”

Sam jumped viciously, knees hitting the table. He swore, rubbing his leg, and turned to face his brother. “How long have you been there?” “Dad beat us.” Dean responded, voice tight and controlled. Cas’ eyes tracked the hunter as he moved to one of the beds, words dancing on the tip of his tongue. He knew that he should say something, apologize at least, but the room was still blurry, and his cheeks were damp. Dean glanced over his shoulder, briefly making eye contact with Cas. The angel’s blue eyes were large, innocent, full of sympathy and love. Dean mentally shook himself. There was no love in those eyes, just pity, and Dean didn’t want anyone’s pity. The hunter pulled up the cheap blankets, covering himself, and resolutely faced the wall. He tuned out the other occupants, focusing on keeping his breathing steady. He wouldn’t cry. Winchesters didn’t cry.

Cas perched motionlessly, watching over Dean while the hunter slept. His mind was still in turmoil from earlier, and he took advantage of the time while the brothers slept to sort through what he’d learned. What was the best way to approach this? Dean needed to see that he was worthy, that nothing was wrong with him, that his father was the incorrect one here. But how? The angel’s brow furrowed in concentration, staring piercingly at Dean. The hunter was half-covered by the bedsheet, and Cas had to resist the urge to pull the blanket up around Dean’s neck. Personal space, he reminded himself. Dean was very insistent about personal space.   
Dean made a small noise in his sleep, shifting slightly and exposing a sliver of skin between his shirt and his pants. Cas swallowed, his eyes inexplicably drawn to the bare skin. There was a strange sensation flitting at the bottom of his stomach, almost as though a fire was burning underneath his skin. His gaze was locked onto Dean’s stomach, and he found himself silently urging the hunter to move, to shift his shirt up a little more...Cas shook himself. No. That was definitely violating some kind of personal space. The angel stood, deciding that he should cover Dean with the blanket, and moved purposefully towards him. Cas leaned over Dean, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it up to his chin. Dean nuzzled against Cas’ arm, latching onto the warmth. Cas froze. Dean used the lack of movement as incentive to further attach himself to Cas, wrapping one of his arms around the angel’s. Cas was about to attempt to gently extricate himself from Dean’s grip when the hunter murmured:

“Cas.”

The angel struggled to swallow, throat suddenly full of sand. Cas’ heart was racing, and he fought to control his breathing. He mustn’t wake Dean, he needed to be quiet, he needed to be careful. Dean was tightly wrapped around Cas’ arm, and the angel found that it would be most comfortable for him to settle down next to Dean on the bed. Cas gingerly lowered himself onto the bed, carefully arranging himself so that he was in a lounging position, facing Dean. He studied the hunter’s face. Dean was much more peaceful when he was asleep. All the stress and responsibility he held on to during the day was gone, replaced with a slack-jawed, relaxed visage, and Cas couldn’t help but smile fondly. His heart felt as though it had migrated up into his throat, and the smile refused to leave his face as he stared down at the sleeping hunter next to him.

For as long as he could remember, Dean had woken up cold. The sheets had come off him in the night, his shirt had ridden up, or he’d just plain gotten chilly. Whatever the reason, every morning was the same feeling of cold. But this morning...he was warm. He was comfortable and warm, and all he wanted to do was sink into this warmth and not get up. Dean sleepily cracked open an eye, then jerked back so hard that he was halfway out of the bed before he could stop his momentum.  
“What the hell, Cas?!” Dean spluttered, trying to untangle himself from the sheets. The angel peered curiously at him over the lip of the bed, seemingly perplexed as to why Dean had ended up on the floor. “I was attempting to pull the blanket over you and you grabbed my arm.” Cas explained calmly, as though this made up for the fact that Dean had woken up with an angel in his bed. Dean stared up at him incredulously. “And, what, you just thought it’d be better to sleep with me than to try to move your freaking arm?!” “You were happy. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Cas mumbled quietly, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. The angel was clearly hurt, and Dean opened his mouth, unsure of how to respond. Half of him wanted to apologize, but the other half was still focused on the fact that Cas had friggin’ slept with him.

“Whuzzgoinon?”

The commotion had woken Sam, who peered blearily over at the pair of them. His forehead wrinkled in confusion, clearly trying to piece together why Dean was on the floor and “Why’s Cas in your bed?” Sam slurred sleepily. “I was tucking Dean in and he grabbed my arm. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I didn’t take away my arm.” Cas explained before Dean could think up a reasonable excuse. Sam’s face split into a leering smile, and Dean felt color rush to his cheeks. “Did you cuddle Cas?” Sam asked, a shit-eating grin twisting his mouth. Dean spluttered indignantly as Sam began to laugh, and Cas merely watched with quiet amusement from his perch on Dean’s bed. Dean threw up his hands in frustration and stormed out of the motel room, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid plot and character development getting in the way of the kinky stuff.


	5. Chapter 5

“Any news on the siren?”  
Sam squinted at his laptop screen, peering at the headlines flickering past. “Maybe.” The hunter responded, doubt evident in his voice. “There’ve been a couple suspicious deaths. But they’re all at a, um…” Sam trailed off, glancing apprehensively at Dean. “Where are they taking place, Sammy?” Dean said, in a measured, dangerously low voice. “At a, um, retreat for gay couples.” Sam mumbled, staring determinedly at his laptop screen.

“No.” Dean stated. “We are not investigating this.” Sam let out a frustrated sigh. “Dean, if there’s a siren here, we need to stop it. Shove your homophobia up your ass and get over it.” “I am NOT-” Dean started to say, but Cas cut him off. “If this makes you uncomfortable, then Sam and I will investigate it.” A surge of hot jealously and anger flooded through Dean, followed by a wave of possessiveness that almost buckled his knees. “No.” He snarled, surprising Sam and Cas. Sam cocked an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something, but Dean took a shuddering breath and started to speak. “I’ll help investigate, but I don’t think we should go undercover unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Sam looked like he wanted to disagree, but Cas shook his head slightly, signaling that he should drop it. 

“Look, Dean, I know you said we shouldn’t go undercover unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I haven’t been able to find out anything concrete, and more bodies have been piling up.” “I might’ve agreed before you established yourself as an FBI guy. Now it’s just me and Cas that can go undercover, and I’m not gonna do that.” Sam and Dean had been arguing for the majority of the ride back to the motel, and luckily, Cas wasn’t with them. “Dean, cut the crap. You don’t want to do this because you’re afraid that Dad will come back to haunt you. That, or you’ll actually jump Cas if you’re given the chance and told it’s okay.” Dean nearly collided with an oncoming car as he whirled to look at his brother. 

“What the fuck, Sam?!” “Oh come on, Dean. You two have been eye-fucking each other for years, and since Cas started wearing lipstick, you’ve been moaning his name in the shower every morning. Get over yourself.” Dean’s face contorted with rage, and he hit Sam squarely across the face. The taller hunter’s head snapped to the side, and for a moment, it looked as though he would hit back, but he reigned in his temper. “You’re going undercover with Cas. It’ll take a week, tops. If you’re that scared of pretending to be gay for a week, then I suggest you talk to Cas about your feelings. He likes you too.” Dean didn’t trust himself not to hit Sam again, so he just nodded, jaw clenched with anger.

“Just to be clear, this was all Sam’s idea.” “I am aware, Dean.” Dean nodded, trying to hide his nerves. He and Cas were ready to move into New Beginnings Community, and Dean was already preparing to quit. His hands were shaking as he attempted to button his shirt, but his trembling fingers refused to cooperate. Dean was about to give up when he heard a sigh from behind him, and Castiel’s hands gently brushed his aside, fingers moving nimbly to button Dean’s shirt. Dean mumbled his thanks, and Cas stopped just shy of buttoning the top button, blue eyes seeking out Dean’s green ones. “Dean, I know this is not easy for you to do. I will respect your feelings in this matter and I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” Cas said quietly. 

Dean felt like he was drowning in Cas’ eyes, the deep blue pulling him closer. He nodded dumbly, throat working to swallow. The angel studied Dean’s face, tracing a finger along his jaw, feeling the stubble there. Dean’s breathing was harsh and fast, the world seeming to move in slow motion as Cas leaned forward, lips barely brushing over Dean’s. They stood motionless for a moment, lips slightly parted, before Dean let out a slight sigh and leaned against Cas, resting his head on the angel’s shoulder. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, holding the hunter in a tight hug. Dean relaxed, closing his eyes, silently wishing that this could last. This was good. He could do this. Here, in Cas’ arms, he was safe. 

“Dean?” “Mm?” Dean responded, feeling Cas’ deep voice reverberate through his body. “We should get going. Sam will worry.” “Yeah.” Dean agreed reluctantly. Neither of them moved for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of security, before Dean finally leaned back. Cas only moved his arms when Dean gently pushed them down, moving to hang limply at his sides. “Thanks, Cas.” Dean said, his smile tinged with sadness. “Anytime, Dean.” Cas smiled back. Dean turned away from him, walking purposefully out the door, bags in hand. Cas followed behind, careful to respect Dean’s “personal space” rule, closing the door behind him. It was a bit of a drive to New Beginnings, and since Dean and Cas would be staying there, Sam had elected to find a smaller motel room.

“Hi, welcome to New Beginnings! How may I help you fine gentlemen?”  
Dean grimaced slightly, silently wishing for death. The man at the front desk was in his early 20s, slim, and far too overenthusiastic for Dean’s liking. He had sized up Cas and Dean the moment they walked through the doors, and had shot Cas a dazzling grin. Much to Dean’s amusement, the angel was busy admiring their surroundings and hadn’t seemed to notice the clerk’s attentions. “We reserved a room for two, name should be Winchester.” “Ah, yes, we’ve been expecting you two! You’re on the third floor, room 308. Elevators are on the left, stairs on the right. Dinner service begins at 5:30 and ends at 8:30, but the bar is open until midnight.” Dean nodded, taking the room keys from the clerk’s outstretched hand. 

“Why do you think it’s called New Beginnings?” Dean asked as they moved towards the elevator. “I suppose, for many, openly being who you are after many years of hiding is like a new beginning. Relationships are redefined, new people enter your life, old friends may leave.” Cas responded, a trace of wistfulness in his voice. Dean arched an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience there, Cas. Something you want to tell me?” The hunter joked. The angel’s blue eyes met Dean’s, and he quietly said: “There’s nothing I could tell you that you don’t already know, Dean.”

Dean’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. Cas had grown to become one of his closest friends over the years, and lately, they’d been, well, maybe more than that. A small voice in the back of Dean’s head whispered that Cas liked him and that Dean should stop being so stupid about it, but the rest of Dean promptly told that voice to shove it. He was a little confused, that’s all. It was understandable to question your feelings about someone that you’re very close to. _Yeah, but straight guys don’t jack off thinking about their male best friend._ Said the little voice. Dean shook his head, trying to brush away the voices. He fumbled the room key slightly as he tried to open the door, but quickly recovered it, one of Cas’ hands darting out to steady his. A flush crept up Dean’s cheeks at the contact, and he hastily opened the door, ending the connection as quickly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot. Endless plot. Soon thar be smut. I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

“Home, sweet home.” Dean joked as he opened the door. Cas followed closely behind him, laying their bags down on the floor next to a chest of drawers. Dean was looking around the room, taking in their surroundings, and he stopped when he got to the bed.  
“There’s only one.”  
“Yes, Dean, it’s customary for couples to share a bed.”  
Dean looked flabbergasted. “Cas, we’re not a couple!” Cas made an expression that strongly reminded Dean of Sam, and replied “Well, we’re undercover as one, so naturally they’re only going to give us one bed.”  
“We can’t share a bed, Cas!” Dean said weakly, his voice cracking slightly. The angel fixed him with a look that was part pity, part amusement. “Dean, I don’t sleep. I will watch over you.” Dean opened his mouth, about to argue that Cas watching over him was weird, but decided against it. Cas staring at him while he slept was better than Cas lying next to him while he slept.

Cas lay on the floor, fully clothed, hands folded over his stomach. He gazed serenely at the ceiling, listening to the steady, deep sound of Dean’s breathing. A small smile danced over the angel’s features. Given everything the Winchesters had been through, it seemed only right that Dean get a good night’s sleep. Despite Dean’s insistence that Cas didn’t need to stay, the angel had chosen to remain in their room during the night. Since they were undercover as a couple, Cas thought it would be best if he got used to staying in the same room as Dean while the hunter slept.

Dean stirred, almost as though he could sense that Cas was thinking about him. Cas sat up slightly, making sure that Dean was okay. The hunter’s shirt was dark with sweat, sticking to his skin in patches. Cas’ brow furrowed. Had Dean come down with some sort of fever? He had mentioned that the room was cold when they first stepped into it, saying that he would ask the desk about heat tomorrow, so it was unlikely that the hunter was simply hot. Cas stood uncertainly, about to check the hunter’s temperature, when Dean’s neck arched slightly, letting out a small moan.

Heat rose to Cas’ cheeks, coloring them red. Oh. Dean was having a...dream. Of sorts. The angel thumped back onto the floor, feeling tremendously foolish. He tried to settle down again and ignore Dean, but it grew increasingly more difficult as the hunter’s movements and moans grew louder and more frequent. Dean’s back arched off the bed, hands fisting the sheets, and Cas involuntarily sucked in a breath. He felt like he was frozen in place as a sinful moan ripped from Dean’s throat, and Cas’ breathing was suddenly harsh and loud in the quiet room.

Cas stood shakily, legs threatening to collapse under his weight. He was slightly lightheaded, the room spinning around him, and he stumbled forward. One of his knees collided painfully with the bed, and the angel fell hard onto the mattress. Dean jolted awake, leg connecting with Cas’ stomach. Cas felt his breath leave him, and he fell into a coughing fit, doubling over. Dean was sitting bolt upright, one of his knees slightly raised to conceal the effect of his dream. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest, his mind racing to find an explanation to why Cas was on his bed.

“Cas?” Dean breathed, wincing at how husky his voice was. “I was trying to leave, and I tripped.” Cas wheezed, still recovering his breath. “Why were you leaving?” Dean asked, and a flush crept up Cas’ cheeks. “You were, um, having a...dream.” Dean groaned, slumping back onto the pillows. What had he done? What had he said? A spike of fear flashed through him. “Why’d you need to leave? I’ve had...dreams before.” Dean said, trying to keep his voice steady. “You were moaning.” Cas mumbled, almost indistinguishably, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean’s gaze trailed down the angel’s body, lingering on his crotch, and a devious idea flitted through Dean’s mind.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish myself off.” Dean said casually, settling comfortably against the pillows, watching Cas from under half-lidded eyes. The angel stiffened slightly, and slowly moved to leave. “I’ll be in the hallway, then.” “Oh, no.” Dean smirked. “We’re a couple. It’ll look suspicious if you’re out in the hallway at this time of night.” Cas’ head whipped up, and Dean noted with pleasure how dark the angel’s eyes were. “Where would you like me to go?” Cas said quietly, voice low and measured. Dean stretched languidly. “You can stay right here if you like. But the bed is probably the most comfortable place.” Cas froze, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Had Dean just invited him to sleep next to him? Only hours before, the hunter had been willing to sleep on the floor to avoid sleeping with Cas. What unusual creatures humans were. 

“Coming, angel?” Cas shuffled onto the bed, lying down next to Dean, the hunter shifting slightly to make room for him. Dean shot him a grin, Cas returning it hesitantly. The angel settled down, facing away from the hunter, heart pounding. The silence stretched and grew, and for a moment, Cas thought that Dean wasn’t going to go through with his earlier statement. Then a small moan broke the silence, and Cas inhaled sharply. He was frozen, listening to Dean’s heavy breathing and occasional moans, growing ever harder under his slacks. The small noises of exertion that Dean was making abruptly stopped, and Cas felt the hunter move, pressing a hand against the angel’s back.

“Care to join, Cas?”

Cas wasn’t sure whether the noise he made was a response or out of desperation, but Dean took it as an affirmative. The hunter pinned Cas to the bed, hungrily devouring his mouth with kisses. Cas moaned loudly, making Dean growl in response. Dean’s hands moved down Cas’ torso, unbuttoning his shirt. Cas panted as Dean kissed his neck, sucking dark marks into his skin. One of the hunter’s hands cupped Cas over his slacks, and the angel arched into the touch, begging for more. Dean smiled against his angel’s neck, the noises coming from Cas’ mouth encouraging him to grow bolder with his touches. He slowly ground his palm against Cas’ crotch, Cas’ hips stuttering forward into his hand. 

“Please, Dean.”

Fuck, hearing Cas say his name in that rough, low voice shouldn’t be that hot. “Please what?” Dean managed, increasing the pressure of his palm. “Please let me...please...I need to.” Cas whined, thrusting his hips forward. “Want to cum, angel? Do you want to cum just from grinding against my palm? Would you like that?” The noise that Cas made at that should have been illegal, and Dean’s resolve broke. He popped the button on Cas’ slacks, yanked down the zipper, and dragged down Cas’ briefs. The angel’s cock sprang free, and Cas let out a sigh of relief that dissolved into a groan of pleasure as Dean began pumping his cock.

“Dean.” Cas moaned, arching his back into Dean’s touch. “Close already?” Dean teased, increasing the pace of his hand. Seeing Cas come apart in front of him sent a rush of blood to his cock, leaving him lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He felt drunk, drinking in the sight of a freaking Angel of the Lord needy and desperate at his hands. Cas’ eyes were dark, a small ring of blue around the blown pupils, throat marked with hickies, mouth hanging open. One of Cas’ legs made its way between Dean’s legs, making the hunter groan, his hand faltering for a moment. Cas whined. He was so close, he needed Dean to keep going, he needed to cum. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean’s hand moved again, and Cas threw his head back, mouth frozen in an “o” as he came. Dean followed closely behind him, eyes closed as he came hard against Cas’ leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why I don't write smut.  
> In other news, I'm going away for Christmas break, so updates may be late. Actually, do you want more of this story or should I just write a bunch of one-shots?


	7. Chapter 7

Dean woke to the sound of his phone buzzing furiously. He swatted at it, spinning it on the smooth surface, finally grabbing it and opening it. “SAM CALLING” read the electronically bright screen. Dean groaned, reluctantly hitting “accept call” and lifting it to his ear.

“Hello?” He said groggily, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Dean, where’ve you been? I’ve been calling you for hours.” Sam’s voice was distorted by the tinny speakers, but the irritation was unmistakeable. 

“Sorry, Sammy, I was sleeping in.”

“Yeah, well, get this. The siren struck again, but it wasn’t at the retreat.”

Dean sat up, clutching the phone tightly. “What?” He was fully awake now, sitting bolt upright in bed.

“A couple was attacked and killed on the way to it. Dean, I’m not sure we’re dealing with a siren anymore. The one we fought hung around the strip club, and it was only at the motel because it was following you. Why would it be attacking people on the way?”

Dean shrugged, then remembered Sam couldn’t see the gesture. “I don’t know, Sam. What else could it be? Was there anything suspicious about the way the couple died?”

There was a pause, and Dean could faintly hear a keyboard clicking in the background. “Female werewolves have been known to kill after sex, but the hearts weren’t missing. I don’t know, Dean. I figured it was a siren because of the connection to sex, but now I’m not sure. There doesn’t seem to be enough evidence either way.”

Dean took a deep, steadying breath before replying. “So, for all we know, we’re dealing with some homophobic ass on a killing spree, and Cas and I are undercover for nothing?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sam responded. “It looks that way. Dean, I’m sorry.” Dean closed his eyes, tuning out his brother’s stream of apologies. Nothing. They had come out here for nothing. If they hadn’t come out, then he and Cas wouldn’t have...Dean made a choked sound.

“Dean? You okay?”

Dean swallowed hard, taking a moment to compose himself before answering. “Yeah, Sammy. Just...don’t know whether to be relieved or not.” There was a slight pause, as Sam no doubt debated whether or not to press him, before the response came crackling through. “I know what you mean. I’m glad it’s not a siren, but a serial killer isn’t much better.” Dean sighed, grateful that Sam hadn’t questioned him. “So, should we stay? If the police are investigating, then it won’t be good for me and Cas to stick around, but if we have a chance to catch this guy before he kills more people…” Dean trailed off, giving Sam time to think through their options.

“I know you’re not going to like this, Dean, but it’ll probably be best if you and Cas stick around for another day or two. It might look a little suspicious for you to skip town so quickly.”

“There’s a serial killer hunting down gay couples. Why wouldn’t we want to leave?” Dean argued. He was all for saving people, but this wasn’t really their cup of tea. Sam sighed loudly, making the speakers on Dean’s phone crackle and spit. “Fine. Check out tonight after dinner, tell them you enjoyed your stay but you’re worried for your safety.” Sam’s voice was tinged with disappointment, and Dean winced. He knew that Sam would keep checking up on this case even after they left, and would doubtless blame himself for any other deaths. 

“Sam, this isn’t our fault.”

“If we can help people, then we should! Who knows if the police will even catch this guy?! Dean, we can’t just leave and hope that everything turns out well!” 

“Did you forget the part where we’re toting around a friggin’ Angel of the Lord? If we go after this guy, Cas’ll probably be offered a guest spot on Ellen or some shit.” 

“Cas can use his angel mojo to find the guy, zap him to wherever, and then leave!” “No!” Dean shouted, slamming his fist onto the bedside table. The thought of Cas being anywhere near some deranged sicko with a knife made his blood boil. “We are not making Cas go anywhere near that freak. We’ll stay in our room all day, then check out and go back to the bunker. End of story.” Dean said flatly, trying to ignore the way his heart thumped in fear at the thought of something happening to Cas.

“Fine.” Sam spat bitterly. “We’ll leave a serial killer on the loose, all so you can keep repressing your feelings. I hope you’re happy.” Sam hung up, and Dean threw his phone at the wall. His head was pounding, and anger clouded his vision. He wasn’t doing this for him. He was doing this for Cas. Cas needed to stay safe, and Dean would protect him.

“Any news?”

Dean nearly jumped out of the bed. “Christ, Cas! Give a guy some warning!” The angel peered down at him, head cocked slightly. “What does Jesus have to do with this?” Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s an expression, Cas.” The angel nodded seriously, a grave expression on his face. “What were you and Sam discussing? It sounded very serious.” Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sam doesn’t think it’s a siren, or any other monster really. Just some run-of-the-mill serial killer.” “So what’s our next move?” Cas asked, adjusting himself so that he was sitting cross-legged in front of Dean. “Nothing. We stay here for a few more hours, then check out and head back to the bunker.”

Cas frowned. “We aren’t going to help these people?” “It’s not that simple, Cas. We’re in danger too, because of our...cover.” Dean said, choosing his words carefully. “If that killer, whoever they are, see us, then one of us might end up being their next victim.” Cas’ brow wrinkled. “But you’ve put yourself in danger before, even used yourself as bait. How is this different?” “It’s different because this is a normal person, Cas. It’s not a monster. This guy doesn’t have a special weakness or anything we can exploit. For once, we leave this to the police. If we stay, we’ll only end up interfering.” 

“No.”

Dean looked up, surprised. “No?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Cas. The angel steeled himself, then replied: “No, Dean. We’re not going to leave.” “Why not?” Dean said quietly, a hint of anger coloring his words. “We can’t leave these people to die. Sam is already undercover as an FBI agent, so he can aid the police. You and I will remain here, and if one of us is taken, I believe that we are more than capable of handling ourselves.” Dean stared at the angel incredulously. “Cas, are you out of your feathery mind?” “No, Dean.” Cas said resolutely. “We’re going to catch this killer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this criminally late update. Writer's block is horrible, and I must've rewritten this chapter six times. Here it is, finally, and hopefully updates will get back to their weekly schedule.


	8. Chapter 8

“So, where do we start?”

“Breakfast.” Dean replied, pulling on his jacket. Cas stood hesitantly by the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Breakfast?” “Yes, breakfast. We’re a normal, healthy, couple, and we need food. Come on.” Dean crossed over to where the angel stood, reaching behind Cas to open the door. He was over the threshold before he realized Cas was standing motionless, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing, Dean.” Cas replied, but Dean detected a note of something dark and unpleasant in the angel’s voice. Dean repressed a shudder as Cas brushed against him, before turning and locking the door behind them.

“Are you not gonna get anything?” Dean asked out of the corner of his mouth. The breakfast buffet was incredible, with everything Dean could dream of being offered in massive quantities. Dean had filled up his plate and was debating whether he could get a second, but Cas’ plate was painfully empty. 

“I’m an angel. I don’t need to eat.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but people do. And you are a person now.” He said, piling food onto Cas’ plate. “Plus, this way I can eat two plates of food without seeming like a slob.” Dean winked, making Cas laugh. “Fair enough, Dean. For the sake of the mission, I will eat food.” “Atta boy!” Dean joked, slapping Cas on the back as they made their way to an empty table in the corner of the dining room.

“So, after breakfast, where do we start?” Cas asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Easy there, tiger.” Dean mumbled around a mouthful of egg. He made a massive effort to swallow, washing it down with a swig of coffee. Cas waited for him to finish, foot tapping impatiently under the table. 

“We have to get to know the people around here, see if anyone’s heard or seen anything suspicious. They probably won’t trust us very much, because we’re new to the town and community, and no one knows what to expect from us. So we have to get to know everyone. Go to dinner or the movies with other couples, in general, be as normal as possible.” Cas nodded seriously. “How long will that take?”

Dean laughed. “Cas, there’s no faking personal connections.” 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

Dean blinked. “What are you talking about?” He asked, brow furrowing. “Well, we’re not a couple. We’re ‘faking it’, as you would say.” “Well, that’s different.” Dean said plainly, returning to his breakfast. Cas didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. The angel’s eyes were narrowed slightly, though whether it was from confusion or anger Dean couldn’t tell. “How is it different?”

Dean sighed, placing down his fork and knife. “Cas, I’ve known you for years. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count, and I’ve saved yours a couple of times. You pulled me out of hell, ate Leviathans, fought through Purgatory with me. We don’t need to be a couple to have a personal relationship.” Dean paused to take a sip of coffee, and Cas took advantage of his momentary silence to interject. “We’ve kissed.” Dean choked slightly, spitting out his mouthful of coffee onto the table. The woman seated nearest to them gave Dean a disapproving look, and he hastily put on what he hoped was a convincing, sincere smile. The woman didn’t seem impressed, and Cas snickered at Dean’s discomfort.

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Cas covered his amusement by taking a large bite out of a muffin. It tasted like molecules, but it stopped Dean from glaring at him. “Kissing does help with personal relationships, doesn’t it?” Cas asked innocently. Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah, it does. Why?” “Welll…” Cas said, playfully drawing out the word, “What’s to stop me from kissing people I want a closer relationship with?” “Nothing, I guess.” Dean said slowly. “Who did you have in mind?” “Oh, I don’t know.” Cas smiled. “There’s this one hunter that I’m a bit fond of.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” Dean grinned back. It was easier to go along with this casual flirting than to try to stop it, and somehow, he was okay with it. He leaned forward on his elbows, tilting his chin up so that his mouth was inches away from Cas’. “Yeah.” Cas breathed back. “He’s tall, wears a lot of flannel, and he’s got the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.” “Sounds like quite a guy. What’s his name?” Cas looked down at the table, as though embarrassed, and Dean saw the angel’s cheeks redden slightly.

“Sam.” Cas replied, a wicked grin curling his mouth. Dean jolted back. “Sam?!” He barked, louder than he intended. Heads turned their way, and Dean felt himself flush as Cas heaved with laughter. “Very funny.” Dean snarled, refusing to look at the angel. “What? Were you expecting someone else?” Cas teased. “Gee, maybe the person you’re undercover with as your boyfriend?” Dean growled, trying to ignore the twisting jealousy in his gut. Cas rolled his eyes. “Get over it, Dean. It was a joke.” “Whatever.” Dean grumbled, reluctantly getting up to clear their plates. 

As they walked back to their room, Dean tried to make sense of his thoughts. What had gotten into Cas? Declaring that they were going to stay to help people wasn’t really out of character for the angel, but all the sass? Something was wrong. Cas didn’t have much of a filter, but teasing? Definitely not Cas’ cup of tea. He gave the angel a sidelong look. Same messy hair, same trench coat, same tie, same blue eyes. But the way Dean’s hair stood up when the angel brushed against him, how his skin crawled when Cas casually grabbed his hand and pulled him into their room, cemented it in his mind. This was not Cas.

Not-Cas pressed Dean against the door, kissing him fiercely. Dean was too surprised to respond in kind, and Not-Cas growled in frustration, slipping a hand under Dean’s shirt and dragging his short nails over Dean’s chest. Dean hissed, the pain sending electric shocks running through his body. “Fuck.” Dean gasped, his head lolling back to hit the door as Not-Cas sucked a bruising mark into Dean’s throat. Dean’s breath hitched as Not-Cas palmed the front of his pants, and Dean could feel Not-Cas’ smile against his neck. 

“Cas...Cas, this isn’t you.” Dean managed, struggling to ignore the lust that was clouding his head. Not-Cas smiled predatorily. “Oh, no, this isn’t Cas. But don’t you like me so much better?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'll write a nice fluffy chapter cause my updates have been really irregular  
> Me to me: Write a cliffhanger


	9. Chapter 9

_“Dean? I think I’ve found something. We might’ve been wrong earlier when we thought it was a normal person. It turns out that the attack on the road was just a regular Joe, but he said he was inspired by the attacks at the resort. So, it could still be something supernatural. Keep an eye out.”_

_“Hey, Dean, I saw that someone else went missing, but news reports don’t have a name for the victim yet. Can you ask around and try to figure out who went missing? Thanks.”_

_“Dean, I’ve left you a few messages but you haven’t responded yet. Call me back.”_

_“Dean, seriously, call me back. Are you okay?”_

_“It’s Sam again. Call me ASAP.”_

Sam sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He let out a frustrated sigh. Why wasn’t Dean responding? Had he been taken? No, no, that wasn’t possible. The last time they’d dealt with sirens, Dean had been whammied by one pretending to be an ideal brother. Granted, their relationship now wasn’t perfect, but it was better than it had been. So how would a siren have gotten to him? 

Sam shook himself. _Don’t be ridiculous._ He told himself. _Cas is there, and there’s no way a siren could get past Cas. Cas would notice if someone started trying to get with Dean._ He pulled his laptop towards him, resigning himself to another night of research. Dean was okay. He’d probably forgotten to charge his phone, or else let Cas waste the battery on some silly game. Sam grinned, amusing himself with the image of the usually serious angel arguing over the merits of Candy Crush with Dean. Sam huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. He was probably just being paranoid.

Three beers later, Sam was far from laughing. There’d been no breakthroughs in the newest disappearance, and the police had yet to identify the missing person or find a body. Dean was still MIA, and Sam was starting to get seriously worried. Paranoia had keep them alive and well for all this time, and he was beginning to think that his concerns merited action. Frustrated, he called Dean again, slamming the phone down on the cheap motel table when Dean’s voicemail cheerfully told him to “Leave his name, number, and nightmare at the tone.”

Sam thumbed through his phone’s contacts, stopping when he got to Castiel. His thumb hesitated over the CALL button, while Sam waged a mental war with himself. Should he call Cas? If Dean was in trouble, then Cas would be with him, and Sam wouldn’t get a response from either of them. On the other hand, if something had happened to Dean, and Cas wasn’t there to help...Making up his mind, Sam pressed the CALL button, and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

Cas’ gravelly voice echoed through the phone’s tinny speakers, and Sam’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“Cas, hey, man. How are you?”

“I’m...fine.” Cas replied cautiously. Sam didn’t miss the hesitation in the angel’s voice, and sat up straighter. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing in worry.

“Um...Dean is...gone.”

“What?!” Sam snarled, knocking over his chair as he stood. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s not here.”

Sam clenched his fist by his side, forcing down his fury. “Cas, walk me through this. You two checked in, got a room, and now he’s gone? I’m gonna need a better explanation than that.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” The angel whispered morosely, his voice cracking slightly. “I, um...we checked in, got a room, and when I woke up this morning, Dean was gone. I think I may have been drugged.”

“Drugged?!” Sam spat. “Cas, you’re a freaking angel of the Lord. How does someone pull one over on you?”

“Maybe you failed to notice, Sam, but I’m not infallible.” Cas’ words were sharp with irritation, and a small, rational part of Sam knew that the angel was just as worried about Dean as he was. The rest of Sam told that rational part to shove it, and continued his tirade against the angel.

“Well, then, enlighten me. How did you “fail to notice” Dean going missing?” Sam challenged.

“I assume that the siren drugged me, then took Dean.” Cas responded, his tone almost casually nonchalant. “There are other explanations, but this is the most reasonable.”

Sam massaged his temples, taking a few calming breaths before responding. “So, there is definitely a siren, and it took Dean, that’s what you’re saying?”

“It is the most logical explanation. Occam’s Razor, as you would say. If it were a normal person seeking to attack a couple, then they would have attacked both of us, or perhaps me. There is no reason why an ordinary individual would choose to attack Dean over me, as I am the less physically imposing target. Therefore, whatever took Dean must be a supernatural entity.”

Sam paused, thinking it over. It made sense, but it didn’t answer all his questions. “Don’t sirens usually make their victims kill someone? The one we tracked a few years ago had me and Dean at each other’s throats, and another guy killed his mother.” There was a moment of silence as the angel mulled over his words, then Cas replied.

“I would imagine that the siren has been making couples kill each other, perhaps using jealousy as a motivation? The siren could be seducing each of them individually, and then forcing them to confront each other.”

Sam nodded, then remembered the angel couldn’t see him. “Right.” He said, biting his lower lip as he considered their next course of action. “So, if the siren’s gotten Dean, it’ll be coming for you next?”

“I would assume so.”

“You need to be prepared. Dean’s going to be under the siren’s spell, and we can’t risk losing you as well. What would the siren turn into to get to you?” Sam asked, taking a sip from his beer while he waited for the angel’s reply.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Cas’ voice was tinged with fear, and Sam cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. 

“Cas, the siren turns into your...ideal person, for the last of a better term. It turns into the person you want most in the world. For Dean, it became his ideal little brother. So, um, what would the siren be for you?”

“Dean.”

Sam blinked. He wasn’t exactly surprised by Cas’ response, but it certainly complicated matters. How was Cas supposed to tell if it was the siren or the real Dean?

“Okay, let’s try a different approach. How did the siren get Dean? Last time, it appeared as his perfect little brother, so have you guys talked to anyone like that? Have any people tried to get close to Dean in any way?” Sam tried, rubbing his forehead. For Dean’s sake, he hoped that there was an obvious subject, but a small part of him was afraid of the answer. What if the siren was another brother, who pointed out Sam’s faults?

“No, no, we just checked in and went to our room. We didn’t talk to anyone.” Cas sounded frustrated, and Sam could almost picture the angel’s face drawn into a frown of concentration.

“So what do we do?” Sam asked, trying to keep the note of defeat out of his voice. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t made Dean go undercover, then he’d had never gone missing. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ Sam berated himself, silently cursing his bullheadedness.

“I can ask around the retreat to see if anyone has seen Dean.” Cas offered, “And you could continue to watch the news and see if any new information comes out regarding Dean’s disappearance.”

Sam sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, Cas. That sounds great.” He tried to sound hopefully, but he knew he was failing. “Look, I’ll call you back tomorrow morning, okay? Stay safe.” Sam hung up before the angel could reply, and sank down onto the motel bed. He rested his head in his hands, allowing himself a moment of self-pity before he looked up again. _You’re not helping Dean by sitting here whining._ He told himself. _Watch the news, and don’t mess up again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have finally updated, after everyone has no doubt lost interest in this story. Hopefully I explained everything that's been going on, and cleared up that little cliffhanger from last chapter. I won't promise weekly updates, but I'm going to try to get back on a schedule with my writing.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean’s headache woke him.

He groaned, sitting up, and looked around. He was in his room, alone. Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember what had happened. He and Cas had gotten breakfast, then gone back to their room, and...Dean sat bolt upright as the memories of last night rushed back to him. Shit, that wasn’t Cas! What the hell was that?! The hunter looked around wildly, searching for any sign of the angel or the Not-Cas. Sam had said they were just hunting a regular guy, so what could have gotten into Cas? Dean reached out to grab his phone, and spent a frantic moment scrabbling for it before he realized it was gone. Perplexed, he started towards the door, intent on figuring out where Cas had gone.

The bathroom door opened, and Dean stopped in his tracks. The angel stepped out, wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his hips. Dean swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. It might not be Cas. He reminded himself, forcing himself to look away. The angel chuckled darkly, amusement curling the corner of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw the angel approaching him, moving with an almost languid sensuality. 

“Dean, Dean, Dean.” Mused the angel, absentmindedly hooking a thumb under the towel on his waist. “What am I to do with you?” Dean kept his gaze fixed on the wall, ignoring the Not-Cas as it drew closer. “You’re not Cas.” Dean croaked, wincing at how his voice broke. The Not-Cas cocked its head, considering Dean’s words. “No, I’m not.” It agreed. “But aren’t I much better?” Dean turned to glare at Not-Cas, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The angel, or whatever it was, had pushed the towel down so that it was dangerously close to falling off his hips, exposing the angel’s hipbones. Dean tore his eyes away, catching a glimpse of the angel’s smirk.

“You see,” Not-Cas continued, straddling Dean, “I’m everything you’ve wanted your little angel to be.” Dean tried to push the Not-Cas off his lap, but it just hummed lightly and pressed Dean down onto the bed with unusual strength. “Oh, come now, Dean.” it scolded. “You can’t deny that you’ve enjoyed me more than that prudish, awkward angel. Hasn’t it been nice to not have to make the first move? Hasn’t it been nice to get to finally kiss your precious angel?” _He’s right_. Whispered a small voice in the back of Dean’s mind. _Whatever this thing is, it’s more comfortable to be around than Cas._

"No." Dean hissed, pushing vainly against the weight of the Not-Cas. The Not-Cas smirked, leaning down to kiss Dean's throat. The hunter's breath caught in his throat, and Dean couldn't prevent a small noise of pleasure from escaping him. Emboldened, the Not-Cas pressed further, planting kisses down Dean's throat, occasionally stopping to suck dark marks into the hunter's throat. Dean moaned, his body becoming pliant and willing to the Not-Cas' ministrations. Pleased, the Not-Cas ran a hand down Dean's chest, making the hunter gasp. 

"Isn't this better?" murmured Not-Cas against Dean's shoulder. "Yes." hissed Dean, all thoughts of Cas dissipating as pleasure clouded his mind. "Wouldn't you like to keep this? Keep me?" asked the Not-Cas, lazily tracing its mouth across Dean's chest. "Fuck yes, fuck, please." Dean begged, frantically running his hands over the angel's body. "Would you like to know how?"

Dean paused momentarily, alarm cutting through the fog of lust. Some part of him struggled to break free, to understand what was happening and stop it, but that part vanished as Not-Cas cupped Dean's cock in his hand. Dean moaned, and let out a quiet gasp of "yes."

The hunter, with his head thrown back in pleasure, didn't see the way that Not-Cas grinned triumphantly. He didn't see the angel's reflection in the mirror that stood above the dresser. If he had, then Dean would have pushed the siren off him and gone for his knife. Fortunately for the siren, the hunter was in no state to notice such things. The siren let out a pleased noise. "It's simple, Dean. If you want to keep me, you need to get rid of the other one."

"Th-the other one?" Dean gasped, confusion fighting with pleasure for dominance of his mental faculties. The siren hummed an affirmative.

"If you want to keep me, you need to kill Cas."

Dean stopped momentarily, struggling to comprehend what the siren had just said. "Kill...Cas?" He asked, brow wrinkling in confusion. "Well, you want to keep this, don't you?" asked the siren, hurt coloring its words. "Yeah," Dean agreed, though reluctantly. "But I can't kill Cas. Sam will get mad at me." The siren made a small noise of concession. "That's unfortunate, Dean. How do you think we should solve that problem?"

The hunter struggled to formulate a response, his mind still clouded with a fog of lust. "Kill Sam too?" He asked, looking at the siren for approval. The siren smiled indulgently, clearly pleased. “But...Sam is my brother, and Cas is my friend.” Dean protested weakly. The siren tutted disapprovingly. “A brother you fight with and a prudish angel. They’re hardly right for you.” _He’s right._ Chimed in the voice in the back of Dean’s head. _Cas would never do this with you, and you and Sam have been fighting for years. Take the damn offer while you can. Do something for yourself for once._

Dean nodded, and the siren purred approvingly. "Very good, Dean." The hunter felt a vicious surge of pleasure run through him at the siren's word, and fisted a hand in the siren's hair, pulling him down for a kiss. "You're mine." Dean growled, sucking bruising hickeys into the siren's neck. "My Cas, my angel, mine." 

Cas wandered through the halls of New Beginnings, aimlessly searching for Dean. He'd been at it for a few hours, and there was still no sign of the green-eyed hunter. Anyone he'd asked had raised an eyebrow and wondered why Cas didn't have a better handle on his so-called boyfriend. Cas had fumbled momentarily, and then told them that Dean had gone to pick something up and Cas hadn't heard from him all day. They seemed to believe that, and while he'd gotten several offers for help, he'd graciously refused them all. Tired and frustrated, the angel returned to the room he and Dean shared, defeated.

"Hey angel."

Cas wandered through the halls of New Beginnings, aimlessly searching for Dean. He'd been at it for a few hours, and there was still no sign of the green-eyed hunter. Anyone he'd asked had raised an eyebrow and wondered why Cas didn't have a better handle on his so-called boyfriend. Cas had fumbled momentarily, and then told them that Dean had gone to pick something up "for tonight" and Cas hadn't heard from him all day. They seemed to believe that, and while he'd gotten several offers for help, he'd graciously refused them all. Tired and frustrated, the angel returned to the room he and Dean shared, defeated.

"Hey angel."

Cas turned, surprised. "Dean?" He asked, confusion wrinkling his forehead. The hunter was lounging on their bed, reading a book. What was going on?

"Do I need to get the salt?" The hunter replied. The angel stared at him, uncomprehending. "Because you look like you've seen a ghost." Dean joked. "Oh. Uh, well, no. I don't think salt will be necessary." replied the angel, staring at Dean as though he were about to disappear at any moment.

"What's up with you, Cas? You're looking at me funny." The hunter paused, then added "Well, funnier than usual." The angel stood motionless in the doorway, torn between relief and suspicion. "You've been missing." Cas replied carefully, trying to keep his words as neutral as possible. "Oh, well, you know. Been busy trying to find a homophobic lunatic." Dean said casually, as though he were dictating a grocery list.

"Dean, are you sure you're all right?" Cas asked, concern evident in his words. Dean laughed, tossing his book down on the bed beside him. "Of course I am. Why do you ask?" Cas advanced slowly, fighting to keep his voice steady. "You're not acting like yourself, Dean. Has something happened?" The hunter scoffed. "I'm fine, Cas. It's like you said, this place is a new beginning." The angel frowned suspiciously. That did it. This wasn't Dean.

"What have you done with Dean?" The angel snarled, springing forward to pin the hunter against the headboard. The hunter's head collided with the wall, and he let out a grunt of pain. Cas ignored it, and pressed on. "What have you done with Dean?" Cas hissed, his voice low and menacing. He brought up his angel blade to rest against Dean's throat, pressing just hard enough to let a tiny pinprick of red drip down. The hunter grinned, and suddenly Cas was aware of the cool metal of a gun pressing against his stomach. 

"That won't stop me." The angel growled, fear constricting his throat. Dean inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the angel's words. "No." He agreed. "But it'll hurt like a bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter for the most part, but I'm not sure I did the whole "falling under the siren's spell" thing right. I couldn't really figure out how to convey the siren's power, or Dean's response to it, so I went with "hazy-lusty-Dean-isn't-thinking-straight". Hopefully it turned out okay.


	11. Chapter 11

Cas shuddered, staring into the hunter's green eyes. "Why, Dean?" He whispered, trying to see some trace of his friend in the person that was holding a gun to his stomach. Dean shrugged. "I want something, and I can't have it if you're around." His finger tightened around the trigger, and Cas grabbed Dean’s arm instinctively. “Wait!” He cried, fear raising the pitch of his voice. Dean stopped, though he didn’t release the gun. 

“What can’t you have with me here?” Cas begged desperately, silently praying that Dean would answer him instead of shooting him. The hunter’s gaze dropped briefly, tongue wetting his lips in a nervous flick.

“You.”

The angel's brow furrowed briefly, then understanding hit him like a bolt of lightning. The siren had seduced Dean by posing as Castiel, and somehow convinced the hunter that killing the real Castiel was the only way to keep the siren. The angel's relief was short-lived, as Dean, apparently tired of waiting, pressed the gun harder into Cas' stomach. 

"Dean, believe me, you don't have to do this." Cas whispered reassuringly, slowly maneuvering a hand down to grip the barrel of the gun. "Yes, I do." Dean hissed back. "Don't you understand? If I want you, I have to kill you."

“You can have me now.”

The barrel of the gun pressed harder into the angel’s side, the pressure becoming almost painful. Cas stayed as still as possible, hardly daring to breath. The hunter’s green eyes bored into him, the silence stretching as Dean’s unblinking gaze continued. Cas heard the click of gun's safety, and closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of pain. For a tense moment, the angel held his breath, steeling himself for the impact of a bullet. The barrel wavered slightly, then dug harder into his ribs, as though Dean had reassured himself of his conviction to killing the angel.

The cold metal dropped away, and Cas breathed a sigh of relief as the tension oozed out of the room. Opening his eyes, he saw Dean, and immediately sat bolt upright. The hunter was curled in on himself, forehead pressed to his knees, arms folded over his head. Cas placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder, and carefully pulled the gun from the hunter's slack hand.

"Dean?" He murmured quietly, wincing as the hunter shuddered. 

"Don't." Dean croaked, shrugging Cas' hand off his shoulder. Cas sat back, swallowing hard. "You can have me, Dean." He whispered. Dean snorted. "No, Cas, I can't. Not how I want you. Even if I could...I'm not sure I'd want you anymore. You wouldn't be the same if you did what I wanted." He laughed bitterly, rubbing a hand over his face. 

Cas frowned, cocking his head slightly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." Dean sighed. "Cas, we both know that I'm not shy. You...hell, you told a girl that it wasn't her fault her dad left, and that was at a "den of iniquity", remember? We don’t fit together. If I want you, I can’t have... _this_ you.” 

“If you require intercourse, I would be more than happy to oblige you.” Cas offered, his confusion deepening. Why was Dean unable to understand that Cas reciprocated his feelings? Perhaps it was due to the hunter’s deep-rooted issues with self-worth. 

"Dean, believe me when I say, that I have always loved you. I have always come when you call. I fell from Heaven for you. Why would you not believe that I do not care for you?" Dean seemed to deflate, folding in on himself and refusing to look Cas in the eye. "Cas, I can't-" "Why not?" Cas interrupted. "Dean, I fell from Heaven for you. I became human, and I did it all for you. You didn't force me to do that; I did it of my own free will, and I did it because, as difficult as it may be for you to believe, you are worth saving. You are worth falling for."

Silence fell after the angel's words, leaving them to hang heavy in the air. Dean took a deep, shuddering breath, and Cas threw caution to the wind. "Why would you think you can't have me, when I've been here for so long?"

Something inside the hunter snapped. He whirled, grabbing Cas by the lapels of his trench coat and pinning him against the headboard. 

"You're a frickin' Angel of the Lord, and what am I? I went to Hell, I tortured souls, I became a demon! I don't deserve an Angel. I can't have an ordinary, happy relationship. There's no room for relationships in my line of work, especially not with a -" Dean broke off sharply, biting his tongue. Cas' eyes were wide, and understanding struck the angel like a bolt of lightning.

"Especially not with a male." Cas finished quietly. Dean nodded, a sardonic smile twisting his mouth. "Good ol' John Winchester and his buddies made it clear that hunting is not for the faint of heart, and he had a pretty clear idea of how we were supposed to act." There was a sour taste in the angel's mouth at he looked at the despondent hunter, coupled with the overwhelming urge to hurt the man who had forced his ideas onto his children. Taking a deep, calming breath, Cas leaned forward to gently cup Dean's face in his hand.

"Dean, I understand that your father was a strict man, but he is no longer here. He has no way of recourse if you don't act accordingly, and in this case, I must say that I encourage disobeying the wishes of your father." 

Dean let out a hollow laugh. "I wish it was that easy, Cas. But I can't. I've been Dean Winchester, ladies' man, for as long as I can remember. Even if we both have...feelings for each other, I can't have that kind of relationship."

"Your relationship with Lisa was-" "Was different." Dean finished for him. Sighing, he gave a halfhearted shrug. "It's hard to explain, Cas. The environment I was raised in, the way I was raised...it wasn't very accepting of..." Dean swallowed hard, steeling himself, before continuing. "Of _other_ kinds of relationships. Hunters don't get married, they don't get girlfriends, and they certainly don't get..." "Boyfriends." Cas offered. The word felt strange in his mouth, like it was a new flavor he'd never experienced. It wasn't bad, per se, but it was unusual, and it clearly made Dean uncomfortable.

“Is that what we would be?” Cas asked. “Boyfriends?” Dean’s mouth curled involuntarily, as though the word- or the thought- disgusted him. “I don’t know.” He forced out through gritted teeth. “But it’s not about that, Cas.” 

“Then what?” Cas snarled, frustrated. 

“It’s about what people are gonna say!” Dean cried, equally frustrated. “What if some hunter sees us together, and then everyone thinks Dean Winchester takes it up the ass from his angel boyfriend?! What if-” He broke off, turning away from Cas. Cas reached out in an attempt to comfort Dean, but the hunter swatted his hand away. 

“Forget it.” He said hollowly. “It doesn’t matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short, late update. I had some writer's block with this chapter. I'm still not super pleased with it. It feels too cliche but my muses refuse to speak to me.  
> Bleeeh


	12. Chapter 12

“Clearly it matters, Dean, or you wouldn’t be this upset.” 

Dean shook his head, a bitter grin twisting his visage. “I don’t want to talk about it, Cas.”

The angel sat forward, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Dean, it obviously holds significant importance to you. If you would simply discuss the matter with me, I’m sure we could solve it quite easily.” 

“I said I don’t want to talk about.” Dean snapped, his tone clearly signalling an end to the conversation. Cas let out an irritated sigh. “Fine. In the meantime, we have more important things to focus on. The siren is still alive, and we need to kill it. How did you kill the siren the last time you and Sam faced it?”

“Dagger coated in the blood of a victim, or beating the crap out of it. The dagger would probably be easiest, since we’ve got me.” Cas frowned. “Would that still work, since you’ve been...well, you don’t seem affected any more.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s the best shot we’ve got, Cas.” The angel nodded in agreement. “How do we plan on capturing the siren? We can’t watch every couple here, and we have no way of knowing when someone is being seduced by the siren.”

The hunter heaved a sigh. “I’m not really sure, Cas. I was hoping that, since it didn’t get me, it’d come for you, and we’d be able to gank it that way.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “You are aware that the siren would attempt to seduce me as you, yes?” Dean flushed slightly, clearing his throat nervously before responding. “Yeah, Cas.” He said gruffly. “But given that it got to me while wearing your skin, I’d say we’re even.”

The angel suppressed a small smile. Despite Dean’s reluctance to pursue, or ever admit, his feelings, it was comforting to know that the hunter reciprocated Cas’ own feelings. Noticing the angel’s expression, Dean cleared his throat, nudging Cas slightly. “No chick flick moments, Cas, remember?”

Cas nodded, immediately arranging his features into a more businesslike expression. “So, how do we plan to trap the siren? Am I supposed to lie around all day waiting for it to seduce me?”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. "I'm not sure. Our best bet might be to mingle with some of the other couples here, and see if the siren might go after any of them." Cas inclined his head in a gesture of agreement, standing up from the bed. Dean followed his lead, grabbing his flannel from the nearby chair. 

"What sorts of activities will we be expected to mingle with?" Cas asked as they made their way down the hallway towards the lobby. Dean shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't exactly been to a lot of resorts in my life. There's food and people, and that's about as much as I know." 

"Perhaps we should call Sam and ask him to check the resort's website." Cas suggested amicably. Dean spluttered furiously. "Cas, are you out of your feathered mind?! We can't ask Sam what gay people are supposed to do on vacation!" Cas' brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why not? He has more access to the internet than we do, and his case is dependent on the information we gather here. It seems like a perfectly reasonable request to me."

Dean groaned, silently wishing that the angel was just a bit less naive. "Cas, when couples go on vacation, it's expected that they, ah, spend a lot of quality time together, if you get my drift." Cas was silent for a moment, then understanding dawned on him.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Dean agreed grimly.

"So asking Sam what we're supposed to do would result in him telling us to...jump each other's bones, I believe is the phrase?" Cas asked innocently.

Dean devolved into a coughing fit, face brilliantly red. "Cas, you can't just say that!" He hissed out between coughs. The hunter gritted his teeth as another couple passed them, clearly perturbed by his odd behavior. Cas gave them a cheerful smile, and which they hesitantly returned. Dean groaned as they hurried away, mumbling something about "odd neighbors".

"Well, we've certainly made an impression on the other guests now." Dean grumbled, tugging on the hem of his shirt as he straightened. "I thought it was rather successful." Cas said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Dean glared at him, making Cas' grin widen.

_No chick flick moments._ Dean reminded himself. _You’ve got a siren to kill._

“If you want to call Sam about anything, ask him if there’ve been any couples who’ve checked in recently. The siren got to us pretty quickly, so it might be targeting new arrivals.” Dean said. Cas nodded. “That seems reasonable. What will we do in the meantime?” Dean shifted awkwardly. “Mingle, I guess, Try not to stand out too much.” His stomach growled loudly, and the hunter was suddenly very aware of the fact that he hadn’t eaten since they arrived. “Maybe get some food?” He suggested hopefully.

The angel gave Dean a sideways glance, rolling his eyes when the hunter gave him a pleading look. “Fine. We can get some food.” Cas said reluctantly. Dean punched the air triumphantly. They headed down the hall, falling into a comfortable silence as they walked.

_You basically just admitted to Cas that you like him._ Dean told himself. _So, what, you’re gay now? No, wait, call Sam like Cas suggested. I’m sure he’ll have a speech ready to give to you on “embracing yourself and your sexuality through yoga and health food.”_

“Dean?”

“Hmm?” Dean looked up to see Cas staring at him, worry etched into his features. 

“Are you alright? You seemed a little lost in thought.”

“Oh, yeah, just thinking about how we’re gonna trap the siren.” Dean lied. Cas frowned, but didn’t press further.

_Cas friggin’ loves you, and you’re using him as bait. How’s that for a healthy relationship? He knows you’ve been with Lisa, and you told him that was “different.” It was different because it was with a girl, and you’re gonna hold that over his head as much as you can._ Dean swallowed hard, trying to hide his inner duress from his companion. _He’ll find out, sooner or later. And when he does, he’ll leave. He’s left before. What’s going to stop him now? An alcoholic hunter that has a meltdown every time he looks at you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another mediocre chapter. The plot will likely resume next chapter, hopefully without any more crises from Dean.  
> Also, while Dean is woefully unable to see the world as anything but straight and gay, it's my belief that he's bisexual. What're your thoughts?


	13. Chapter 13

“So, we’re looking for a new couple, right?” Dean asked, surveying their surroundings. The room was full of other couples, all in various degrees of love with each other. 

“That would appear to go along with the siren’s MO.” Cas replied, eyes narrowed as he scanned the room’s other inhabitants. 

“Seeing any likely suspects?” Dean asked, taking a sip of coffee. Cas shook his head, and Dean sighed. “Look, Cas, the siren might not even show up today. You can relax.” 

The angel sighed, fidgeting nervously. “Dean, this is uncomfortable. Everyone here is in danger, and we can’t warn them about it. We can’t do anything to help them, either, because the entire plan revolves around using them as bait. It feels wrong.”

Dean shrugged, toying with his fork. “Cas, I know it doesn’t feel right, but it’s part of being a hunter. You can’t always angel-mojo your way out of a situation, and hunts don’t always go right. People get hurt, people die, and sometimes there’s nothing you can do stop it. I know it’s hard, but you’ve gotta focus. We need to catch the siren, and we’re not going to do that by debating our consciences.”

Cas gave Dean a weak smile, turning back to surveying the room. “How did you know it wasn’t me?”

Dean flushed slightly, avoiding the angel’s gaze. “You were, uh, more enthusiastic and aggressive than you usually are.”

“Oh.” Cas mumbled, a pink tinge coloring his cheeks. “Should we look for any couples that are exhibiting similar signs, then?”

Dean shrugged. “That’s the problem, Cas. The Siren’s gonna be different for everyone. The first time I got whammied by one, it was pretending to be a hard rock enthusiast. We just have to keep looking, and hope we get lucky.”

“The Siren coming after me would be ideal.” Cas stated, lifting his chin defiantly. Dean gaped at him. “Cas, are you kidding me? Have you forgotten that you’re an angel? You being under the Siren’s control would not be ideal.”

“No, but it _coming after_ me would be. We know that it would appear as you.” Cas argued. “And that would be much easier to determine than watching couples we’ve never interacted with.”

“Fine. Say the Siren comes after you. How am I supposed to know? It’s not gonna come for you while I’m hanging around, and you won’t be able to kill it if you’re under its control.” Dean snapped, his anger partially fuelled by fear. “Cas, if something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

The angel’s eyes gleamed defiantly. “People get hurt, people die, and sometimes there’s nothing you can do to stop it, right, Dean?”

Dean gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice quiet so as not to attract attention from other people. “Dammit, Cas, don’t play stupid. You know damn well that you’re not “people”, you’re family.”

“Do you have a better plan?” Cas challenged, folding his arms over his chest. Dean reflexively clenched his fists, then forced himself to relax.

“No.” He growled through gritted teeth.

Cas settled back in his chair, looking supremely pleased with himself. “Well, then, it’s settled. I stay here as bait, and you wait in our room. When the Siren comes, I’ll call you, and if you want to talk to me in person, start off by saying “Poughkeepsie”, okay?”

“I get all tingly when you take control like that, Cas.” Dean teased, but his words were hollow, rather than light. Cas smiled, eyes brightening as he looked at Dean. “I’ll be okay, Dean. I’ll call you as soon as the Siren comes, then I’ll lead it back to our room where you can kill it. Okay?”

Dean nodded, albeit reluctantly, but left. He looked back as he left the room, heart wrenching as he saw the angel sitting alone, staring out the window. _Dammit, Cas. You’d better be okay. I’m not losing you._

“Hey angel.”

Cas looked up to see Dean standing over him, grinning rakishly. 

“Hello, Dean. Did you have something you wanted to tell me?”

The hunter shrugged, taking a seat in front of Cas. “Yeah, actually.” Cas raised an eyebrow, carefully reaching into his pocket to grip his phone, ready to dial Dean at a moment’s notice. “I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier.”

“Is that so?” Cas asked mildly, pressing the call button on his phone. Dean would be alerted, and now all he had to do was guide the Siren back to their room without fully succumbing to the spell.

“Yeah.” said the fake Dean. “It was wrong of me to value a past relationship over this one. Cas, you mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to lose you. Angel, human, God, you’re family, and I need you. I love you.”

Cas knew, he _knew_ that the Siren was a creature of temptation who would say anything to get Cas under his spell, but hearing Dean say those words, the words he’d longed to hear since pulling the hunter out of Hell, he could understand why people fell victim to the Siren. 

He stood shakily, grabbing the table for support. Dean rose, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder to steady him.

“Easy, Cas. I’ve got you, okay?” Dean smiled encouragingly, pulling the angel up gently. Cas allowed the Siren to maneuver him upright, trying to calm his nerves. 

“Let’s go to our room.” Cas murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady. Dean smiled again, a small, genuine expression that made his green eyes shine like emerald pools. “Sure, Cas.”

Dean slipped his hand into Cas’ as they walked down the hall, intertwining their fingers as though it was the most natural gesture in the world. Cas’ heart _ached_ , and he wanted nothing more than to pull Dean into a hug and rest his head on the hunter’s shoulder. 

“You okay, angel?” Dean asked, casually bumping Cas with his shoulder. Cas nodded, conjuring up a weak smile that he hoped disguised the sadness in his eyes. Dean stopped, pulling the angel to halt.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. Cas shook his head, not trusting himself to answer. “Let’s just go to our room.” He said, trying to pull away, but Dean wouldn’t let him. The hunter pulled Cas closer, reaching out to hold both of the angel’s hands.

“Cas, I know you’re scared about how Sam’s gonna react and how Bobby’s going to feel about this. Hell, I am too. But we’ll get through it, alright? I’m not going to keep this a secret, because it’s not something to be ashamed of. I’m still Dean Winchester, and that’s not going to change. It took me a while to realize, and I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of that. But that’s over now, Cas. As soon as you’re ready, we can tell Sam, okay?”

Cas’ vision blurred and distorted as Dean pulled him into a hug, shoulders shaking as he left wet spots on Dean’s flannel. Dean didn’t say anything, just held Cas as he wept, rubbing small circles on his back and planted soft kisses on the angel’s cheek. Cas took a few shuddering breaths, then broke the hug. Dean smiled encouragingly, and Cas nodded his thanks. He took the hunter’s hand again as they finished the walk to their room, opening the door with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Cas cried out as Dean’s knife slashed his exposed arm, falling to his knees to cradle his bleeding the limb. Through the pain, he saw Dean plunge the knife hilt-deep into the Siren’s chest. The Siren let out a brassy screech of pain, flailing wildly as Dean yanked the knife free. The monster collapsed, and Dean stood over it triumphantly, looking around to check on Cas. The angel’s face was streaked with tears, and Dean immediately dropped to his knees, cradling Cas’ face in his hands.

“Cas, Cas, buddy, you okay? Did I cut you too deep?”

The angel shook his head, fresh tears welling in his blue eyes. 

“Dean, do you love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The siren is dead! Woo! And we are nearing the end of this story. It's been a long ride, and this story was/is my first ever real attempt at writing a chapter fic with a plot. I hope you've all enjoyed it!


	14. Chapter 14

Dean stood, frozen, looking down at Cas. 

“Cas, whatever the siren told you, I promise-”

“Dean, please.” Cas begged. 

Dean sighed, crouching down to sit next to Cas. “Siren-Dean said he loved you, didn’t he?” Cas nodded mutely, and Dean let out a slow breath. Okay. He could do this, right? Just tell Cas that yeah, Dean loves him, and he’s family. 

“Cas, you remember how I acted when you were wearing that damn lipstick?”

Cas looked up, clearly confused, but nodded. “Well,” Dean continued, “That was a bit of a breaking point for me, because you looked damn good with that stuff on.” He huffed out a quick laugh, before continuing to talk. “I’d be lying if I said I never thought about you in a more-than-friends sort of way, but that lipstick really did a number on me.”

“Why?” Cas asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Because it’s feminine, Cas. It’s something girls wear. Now, all of a sudden, my…” He hesitated, his doubt catching up to him. His what? His feelings, his lust, his pile of sexual crisis? Swallowing hard, Dean plowed ahead. “My feelings towards you became a lot more complicated. It was already hard for me, because I’m not exactly the most in-touch with my feelings, but now...I don’t know, Cas. It was just _different_.”

Cas frowned, tilting his head to the side. “Because I am not female?”

Dean winced, wishing he could disagree. Yeah, it was different because Cas was a dude. Of course, if Dean told Cas that, then the angel would probably give him a speech on how angels didn’t actually have a gender and could inhabit any vessel they chose. But, as much as it hurt to admit it, Dean _liked_ Cas’ vessel. He liked Cas, and Cas was a dude. 

“It was different for a lot of reasons, Cas, but you’ve got to understand, it was _new_ and different. I’ve never...I’ve never _liked_ a guy before, and sure, I can’t remember all of my one-night stands, but I think I’d remember if I slept with a dude. I don’t like being inexperienced, I don’t like being unprepared, I don’t like being unsure of anything, and dammit, Cas, you make me feel all of those things.”

Cas nodded seriously, as though Dean was revealing deep family secrets instead of spilling his guts over his angel-induced sexual crisis. “Are your feelings a bad thing?” He asked, the furrows on his brow deepening. 

Dean smiled in spite of himself. Feelings being a bad thing? Yeah, that had been his MO for a long time, but now, when having a Cas was a real possibility? He’d learn to get over it. It might take copious amounts of alcohol, but he could get used to the idea of holding Cas’ hand, kissing him, throwing things at Sam when he bitched about PDA.

“No, Cas, they’re not a bad thing.” He murmured, pulling the angel closer to him. Dean grinned ruefully, planting a small kiss on the top of Cas’ head, trying to ignore how ridiculously giddy he felt. He scolded himself, but was unable to wipe the grin from his face. He had Cas, he had the angel after so many years of wanting him, and as terrifying as the prospect of being in a relationship was, he couldn’t help but feel like a teenager who just found out his crush liked him back.

“What will we do now that the siren is dead?” Cas asked quietly, his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. The hunter wouldn’t have moved for the world, instead shifting so that Cas was nestled more comfortably against him.

“Well, we’ve got a few more days booked here, so we could stay.” Dean offered casually, his heart pounding under his calm exterior. He felt Cas’ smile against his chest, the angel holding Dean’s arm tightly. 

“I’d like that, Dean.” Cas answered softly. “But how will we occupy our time?” He asked, looking up at Dean. The hunter’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at Cas. The angel’s expression was innocent, but his eyes were dark with suggestion. Dean smirked, the side of his mouth quirking upwards in a half-smile. 

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He murmured, lowering his head to kiss the angel’s lips. Cas sighed softly into the kiss, settling against Dean, the angel’s weight a comfortable pressure against Dean’s chest. Dean leaned down, deepening the kiss, breathing in the angel’s familiar scent.

Cas moaned, a small, breathy noise, and broke the kiss long enough to settle himself comfortably across Dean’s lap. Dean let out a small groan when Cas’ weight settled across him, the angel’s ass pressing against his crotch. Cas cupped Dean’s face in his hands, tipping up the hunter’s head so that he could kiss him hungrily. The angel’s stubble rubbed against Dean’s face, the rough sensation somehow sparking Dean’s desire. He let out a low growl, pulling Cas closer to him, fisting a hair in the angel’s hair to hold him in place. Cas moaned, and started thrusting jerkily against Dean, the friction driving Dean crazy.

They rutted against each other, their kisses becoming sloppy and open-mouthed as their arousal built. Dean trailed kisses down the angel’s neck, biting and sucking the skin whenever he could. Cas’ moans and stuttered gasps of “Dean” only encouraged Dean, and he took a vicious sort of pleasure in marking up the angel. A litany of _Cas is mine, mine, he’s mine, and everyone’s going to know that he’s mine_ repeated in Dean’s mind, the noises from Cas fueling his possessive streak.

Cas let out a loud, gut-wrenchingly arousing noise, and buried his head against Dean’s neck, his breathing harsh and uneven. Dean was suddenly aware of how quickly the situation had spiraled out of control, and stilled, holding Cas in place. The angel growled, a low, animalistic noise, and glared at Dean through lust-blown eyes.

“Cas, Cas, are you sure you want this?” Dean asked, shocked at how husky his voice was. Cas’ glare intensified, and Dean found himself pinned under the angel’s gaze, just as he had been at the bunker.

“I would not have initiated the contact if I didn’t wish to complete it, Dean.” Cas growled, his voice impossibly low and rough. “Now, if you don’t take exception to it, I would very much like to finish.” 

Dean grinned predatorily, giving the angel an appraising once-over. Cas was hot like this, needy and desperate and demanding, and Dean was completely on board with a demanding Cas.

“No, Cas.” He said, pulling the angel against in a long, slow grind. “I don’t take exception to it at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is drawing to a close, I think, but I'm not quite sure how far I'll take it. I must say I'm attached to this story, because it's been going on for so long, but I don't want it to extend its due either. I'll try to tie up any loose ends and wrap it all up with a nice, cheesy, cliche bow at the end :)
> 
> It occurs to me that there really hasn't been very much smut in this fic. Whoops. *shrugs asexually* I'll get around to it.


	15. The One With Smut in Case You Wanna Skip All the Rest

Dean pulled Cas closer to him, their chests pressing together as they kissed. The angel let out a low moan, impatiently tugging at Dean’s flannel. Dean grinned into the kiss, fisting his hands in that damn trenchcoat, kissing Cas as though the angel was air and he was a drowning man. He tangled a hand in Cas’ hair, pulling the angel’s head back so that Dean could trail kisses down Cas’ neck. 

Cas whimpered, tugging insistently at Dean’s flannel. When Dean didn’t respond, Cas _pulled_ , the flannel tearing and ripping at the seams. Cas yanking it off of the hunter’s body, tossing it aside, and eagerly sliding his hands under Dean’s shirt. Dean made a small noise of protest at the rough treatment of his flannel, and reciprocated by sliding the trenchcoat off of Cas’ shoulders. Cas eagerly shrugged off the coat, hands coming up to cup Dean’s face in his hands and kissing his roughly.

Dean snaked an arm around Cas’s waist, a hand sliding under the curve of the angel’s ass, pulling him closer to drag the angel’s clothed erection against Dean’s own. Cas’ mouth fell open, his head lolling back at the rush of sensations. Dean smirked, repeating the motion, adding a thrust of his hips to the end. A moan tore itself out of the angel’s throat, sending a hot spike of lust through Dean. Fuck, he wanted to hear that noise again, he wanted Cas moaning and desperate, so lost in sensation that he couldn’t speak.

Cas growled, a low, animalistic sound that went straight to Dean’s cock. The angel pushed Dean back against the wall, hard enough to make Dean wince, and the hunter yelped as his clothes vanished. “Cas!”

“What?” Cas growled, nipping hard at a particularly sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. Dean swallowed back a moan, hips jerking instinctively.

“You can’t just use your angel powers to zap me naked.” Dean protested weakly, hissing as one of Cas’ blunt nails scraped over a nipple. 

“We would have ended up this way anyway. I was saving time.” Cas snapped, punctuating each word with a messy kiss on Dean’s neck. Dean moaned before he could stop himself, fingers fumbling at the buttons of Cas’ suit jacket.

“C’mon, Cas, you’re still wearing everything.” Dean whined. Cas barely spared him a glance, and Dean gasped as the now-naked angel thrust against him, the friction intoxicating. Dean grabbed the angel’s waist, hard enough that his fingers were sure to leave bruises, and slowed the movement of Cas’ hips. Cas opened his mouth to protests, but instead let out a lewd moan as Dean dragged their arousals together in a slow grind.

“Fuck, Cas, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” Dean breathed, eyes wide as he gazed at the angel. Cas was flushed, head tipped back to expose his throat, moans and stuttered versions of Dean’s name falling from his lips. Dean fisted a hand in Cas’ hair, pulling the angel down so that Dean could bite and suck on his neck, leaving dark marks in his wake. Cas hissed out a moan, trailing a hand up Dean’s chest to run through his short hair. Dean thrust up against Cas’ leg, not caring that he was basically humping the angel like a dog in heat.

Cas didn’t seem to care either, because he moved against Dean with a feverish intensity, precum beading at the head of his cock. Dean groaned when the angel’s cock rubbed against his, sending a hot spike of arousal lancing through him. He tried to grab the angel’s waist again, to control the pace, but found his hands suddenly locked in an iron grip. Cas looked down at him, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the angel’s lust-blown eyes. 

Slowly, languidly, Cas sank down onto his knees in front of Dean, the hunter’s legs falling open unconsciously. Still holding Dean’s gaze, Cas leaned forward, and ran his tongue along the underside of Dean’s cock. A high, needy whine escaped the hunter before he could stop himself, and Cas smirked, a dark, almost predatory expression that turned Dean on far more than it should. The angel positioned himself above Dean’s cock, mouth opening, but Dean stopped him.

“Cas, Cas, wait.” He pleaded, shutting his eyes tightly. Cas waited, silently, staring at Dean. Dean took a few deep breaths, praying that the angel wouldn’t react poorly to what he was about to say.

“Could you, y’know…” He swallowed hard, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “With lipstick?”

Dean didn’t have to see the angel to know that Cas was confused, probably wondering if lipstick was required for the act of fellatio. He glanced down, and his heart nearly stopped. Cas’s eyes were dark, only the faintest rim of blue visible around the blown pupils, and his predatory grin had widened, stretching his pink-painted lips. Dean forgot how to breathe for a moment, his fantasies returning to him in a dizzying rush. Cas was gonna suck his dick, Cas was gonna give him a blowjob while wearing that damn lipstick that’d been driving him crazy for so long, oh god…!

All rational thought went out the window when Cas took Dean’s cock in his mouth, and apparently angels didn’t have gag reflexes because, fuck, Cas’ nose was pressing against Dean’s pelvis and shit, that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. A freaking Angel of the Lord was sucking his cock, knees spread like a whore on display, that damn lipstick smearing around Dean’s cock as Cas bobbed up and down, occasionally swallowing or humming around Dean’s length. 

The angel swirled his tongue over the head of Dean’s cock, collecting the precum that was beading at the slit. Dean whimpered, hips jerking uncontrollably, desperate to fuck into the angel’s mouth. He kept his eyes shut tight, because if he saw Cas actually sucking his dick, then that was a surefire way to end this much faster than he wanted to. Cas hummed around Dean’s cock, somehow managing to sound amused with a dick down his throat, as though he knew what the hunter was thinking. Dean groaned, his head lolling back against the wall, back arching as he fought to keep from thrusting into Cas’ mouth.

“I can take it, Dean.” Cas said, his voice gravelly and lower than Dean had ever heard it. “I won’t break.” With that, the angel lowered his mouth back onto Dean’s cock, looking up at the hunter expectantly. Dean’s breath stuttered as the sight of the angel’s lips stretched over his cock made a fat blob of precum leak from the head of his cock. Cas ran his tongue over the slit, collecting the precum, and swallowed, keeping the same innocent, expression as he did, and fuck, that was it!

Dean thrust into Cas’ mouth, into the hot, wet passage of his mouth and throat, lewd moans falling from his lips as he did so. Cas allowed the hunter to fuck his mouth, occasionally swallowing around Dean’s cock, causing broken gasps of “Cas” to escape the hunter. Cas reached down to wrap a hand around his own swollen cock, the pleasure enough to make him moan. 

Things went downhill rapidly after that. Dean thrust shamelessly into Cas’ mouth, precum leaking steadily from his cock as he drew closer to orgasm. Cas worked himself over, hips undulating with the steady fluidity of a dancer, but with a much more animalistic intensity. Every time Dean glanced down, the sight of his cock disappearing between Cas’ lips, smudging what little lipstick was left there, he felt the edge grow closer. He stopped looking, staring at the ceiling, wanting this to last as long as possible. The edge was coming up fast, despite his best efforts, and he found the rhythm of hips growing unsteady, his thrusts becoming jerky and uneven. Cas seemed similarly desperate, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes glazed with lust. 

“Oh, fuck, Cas!” Dean cried, spilling his release into the angel’s mouth. Cas took it, swallowing the hunter’s come, frantically fucking into his own hand. As Dean came down the high of his orgasm, Cas reached his, letting out a broken moan as his come painted the tight circle of his fist. They lay like that for a moment, Cas resting his head on Dean’s thigh, the hunter absentmindedly tangling his fingers in the angel’s hair, stroking it with easy, languid movements. 

“That was enjoyable.” Cas murmured. Dean laughed quietly, marvelling at how easy it was to lay here with Cas, post-sex. “I think I should like to do that again.” The angel continued, looking up at Dean from under hooded lashes. Dean sucked in a breath, considering.

“I’d like to do it again too, angel.”

Cas frowned. “Angel? Should I call you...human...now?”

Dean laughed. “It’s a pet name, Cas. Like an affectionate nickname that only I call you.”

Cas’ frown deepened. The angel was clearly trying to find a suitable nickname for Dean, and the hunter didn’t blame him for having difficulty. “Dean” didn’t exactly lend itself to nicknames. He carded his fingers through Cas’ hair while the angel thought, entertaining himself with tracing patterns on the angel’s scalp with his fingernails.

_“Olpirt.”_

“Beg pardon?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It means “light” in Enochian.” The angel responded. “I considered _oiad baltoh ollor_ , meaning “The Righteous Man”, but it seemed too long.”

“Why “light?”” Dean asked curiously.

“Because when I rescued you from Hell, your soul shone brighter than all the others.” Cas answered. Dean grinned, surprised by the open honesty of Cas’ answer. 

“I think I’d like that, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at writing smut, so I'm sorry if this was really bad. I tried to make it worth all of the angst, but I doubt this made up for it. This fic isn't ending yet; I think there's maybe three?ish more chapters, but don't take that as an absolute. But, hey, I finally got around to writing smut, so points for me! +10 experience.
> 
> I couldn't think of any good nicknames for Dean, so I went with "light" even though the pronunciation is a little odd. I thought it was the most appropriate, given how Cas feels about Dean. Also, the comment about Cas being like "a whore on display" is meant as a "Dean likes the thought of corrupting something that's supposed to be pure", and not as a derogatory thing. I don't know if you took in a negative way, but I really don't want it to seem offensive. Sorry, I am a paranoid anxious mess. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that it made up for at least a little bit of the angst!


	16. Chapter 16

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy.”

“What’s up?” Sam’s voice was tinny, the phone’s cheap speakers distorting the timbre of his voice.

“We ganked the Siren.” Dean replied, absentmindedly tangling his fingers in Cas’ hair. The angel was resting on his lap, staring up at the hunter while Dean called Sam to fill him in.

“That’s great!” Sam said enthusiastically. “So you’ll be heading back to the motel, then? Should I start packing up, or can that wait till tomorrow?”

Dean paused, mustering up his courage. He’d discussed it with Cas, and they both agreed that a few more days at the resort couldn’t hurt, but that didn’t make telling Sam any easier. 

“Actually, Cas and I were thinking we’d stick around for a day or two.” Dean replied, fighting to sound as casual as possible. There was a moment of silence on the other end, and Dean could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“Why, to make sure no one else dies?” Sam asked, clearly confused. 

Dean took a deep breath. “No, Sam.” 

There was another pause, then; “Okay.” Sam said hesitantly. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re staying?” He sounded suspicious, as though he knew Dean was hiding something from him. Hell, to be fair to Sam, they hid a lot from each other, so it was a fair bet to assume Dean was hiding something.

“Me and Cas, we need a few days to ourselves.” Dean said, pressing his lips together. He closed his eyes, silently praying that Sam would get the hint and stop asking.

“A few days to do what, exactly?”

Damn. No such luck.

“Get some R&R, you know.” Dean replied, fighting to keep his tone as casual as possible.

“Hmm.” Sam said, clearly suspicious. There was a slight pause, in which Dean’s life flashed before his eyes, before Sam finally gave in. “Okay.” He said reluctantly. “Take a few days at the fancy resort, but keep me updated, alright? I don’t want you disappearing again.”

“Sure thing, Sammy.” Dean said, some of his relief bleeding over into his words. “Thanks.” He hung up before Sam could interrogate him further, and turned back to Castiel. The angel was sprawled across the bed, completely naked. Evidently, Castiel thought that putting his clothes back on was too much work, and Dean had to say that he agreed.

“So, angel, how do you think we should spend our days off?” Dean asked, joining Cas on the bed, stretching out so that he was perched on top of the angel. Castiel arched an eyebrow, unimpressed with Dean’s attempt at seduction.

“Perhaps we should discuss scripture.” The angel replied, deadpan. “Or famous works of literature, if scripture holds no interest to you.”

Dean grinned, leaning down to press a kiss onto the side of Castiel’s mouth. “I’d love to discuss literature with you, angel.” He purred. Castiel made a small noise of surprise, which was muffled by the hunter kissing him. “The Kama Sutra’s literature, right?” He asked, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

Castiel rolled his eyes, pulling a fantastic bitchface. Sam would’ve been proud. “Dean, I hardly think that the Kama Sutra is suitable for a literary discussion.”

“Oh, but it is!” Dean said quickly. “It’s one of the oldest works about sex, isn’t it? That’s gonna count for something, right?” Cas glared at Dean, but there was a kind of fondness to the expression, as though even arguing about silly things with the hunter made Castiel happy. Dean looked away, laughing to cover up the silence that had grown between them.

“If you insist on discussing it, then I’m sure I could accommodate you.” Castiel replied casually, sitting up slightly so that he and Dean were nose-to-nose. Dean swallowed nervously, suddenly very aware of the fact that Castiel was an Angel of the Lord and could probably zap Dean into submission if he wanted to. And, God help him, Dean _so_ wanted Cas to angel-mojo him into submission.

“How would you, uh, “accommodate” me?” Dean asked, and fuck, when did his voice get this hoarse?

“Well, _olpirt_ , I think I’d start off by showing you the positions, in detail.” Cas began, his voice low and rough. “Then, I would explain to you the reasoning behind said positions, and how they would stimulate those who were in the positions. If a more in-depth understanding was required, then I suppose I could be convinced to demonstrate the various positions and their effects on you. If, that is, you would be a willing subject.” 

His voice dropped to a low growl by the time he finished speaking, and Dean found himself on his back, pinned to the bed, with the angel on top of him. “Do you think you could do that for me, Dean?” Cas asked, his face inches from Dean’s. “Could you be obedient for me and do exactly as I say?” Dean opened his mouth, but Cas added; “If you fail to follow my directions, there will, of course, be consequences.” A small smile quirked up the corner of Cas’ lips, but it was a dark, predatory smile, all traces of warmth gone. “Could you do that for me, Dean?”

Dean gaped at the angel, his mouth hanging open incredulously. Oh, he was _so_ done for. He nodded dumbly, torn between anticipation and fear. He wanted this, hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited for thinly-veiled sex games, but _damn_ , Cas was pretty intense when he wanted to be.

The angel’s grin widened, his eyes dark with lust as he stared down at the hunter. “Good.” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to a particularly sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. Castiel trailed his mouth down Dean’s neck, onto his chest, then back up to the hunter’s mouth, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of Dean’s lips. “I do hope you won’t disappoint me, Dean.” He murmured, hovering over Dean’s mouth. 

“I-I won’t.” Dean managed, Castiel’s weight on top of him pinning him to the bed (not that Dean was complaining). 

Castiel’s mouth twitched upwards in a cruel smirk. “Good.” Slowly, the angel intertwined his fingers with Dean’s, sliding the hunter’s hands upwards and together. In an instant, Castiel grabbed Dean’s wrists in one hand, effectively holding the hunter down. Dean struggled briefly, more to test the angel’s grip than anything else, and found himself held still by an iron grip. 

“Now,” Castiel purred, his breath hot on Dean’s face. “Where shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, but I haven't had a lot of time to write this week. I'm planning on giving Cas and Dean a couple of chapters together to make up for all the angst I've put them through, but I've been known to lie. I hope you enjoyed it!


	17. Chapter 17

Dean was 80% sure he’d never been more excited in his life. Castiel, with that low voice and cruel smirk, was a total dom, and Dean was _loving_ it. He’d never admit it, hell, he could barely admit it to himself, but if Castiel told him to get on his knees and lick his boots, Dean would probably do it at this point. 

God, he was so done for.

Castiel moved over him with a languid sensuality that should’ve been illegal, placing gentle kisses on every inch of exposed skin. Dean hissed when the angel nipped at the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. Castiel looked up at him, raising an eyebrow imperiously as he glared at the hunter. Dean barely had time to think _oh shit_ before Castiel had flipped him over, pinning him facedown onto the mattress. The angel’s weight settled on top of him, Castiel stretching leisurely to cover him. Dean bit back a moan when Castiel rubbed his crotch in a slow grind against Dean’s ass, resisting the urge to grind back against the angel.

“I thought I made it very clear that you were not to disappoint me.” Castiel murmured, nipping at Dean’s earlobe as he finished speaking. Dean let out a noise that was dangerously close to a whimper, hips jerking unconsciously as Cas kissed a sensitive spot behind his ear. “I warned you, Dean.” Cas growled, his voice impossibly low and rough. “There will be consequences.” 

“You never told me I couldn’t move or make noise.” Dean argued weakly. He was tempted to “disappoint” Cas more, to satisfy his curiosity over what kind of punishment the angel would inflict upon him. A ghost of a frown flickered over Castiel’s face, then a dark smirk grew in its wake.

“You’re right, Dean.” Cas purred, running a hand down Dean’s back, nails scratching his skin ever so slightly. Dean hissed, the pain sending hot sparks of lust throughout his body. Castiel chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, and repeated the motion, nails digging in enough to leave marks. Dean bit his lip, determined to not let another sound escape him. “Of course, since you’re right, I think you deserve a reward. Do you think you’ve earned a reward, Dean?”

“I-I hope so.” Dean replied, his voice cracking nervously. 

Castiel tutted disapprovingly, tracing his hand around Dean’s rib to run down the front of his chest. “That’s not what I asked, Dean.” He said mildly. “Do you think you’ve earned a reward, _olpirt_?” As he spoke, Cas scraped his nails across Dean’s front, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make Dean struggle to keep still as the pain-pleasure of Castiel’s blunt fingernails drove his cock into an eager erection against the bed.

“No.” Dean hissed, fighting the urge to writhe against the mattress and ease the pressure in his aching cock. Castiel let out an approving purr, sliding down to cover Dean’s body, the angel’s hard cock rubbing infuriatingly slowly against Dean’s ass. 

“Do you think you deserve to be punished?” Castiel growled, biting Dean’s neck hard enough to leave a mark. Dean whimpered, hips jerking unconsciously against the mattress. He bit back a moan as the friction sent a delicious spike of pleasure through his gut. 

“I said,” Castiel hissed, his voice dangerously quiet. “Do you think you deserve to be punished?” Dean gnawed at his bottom lip, taking a moment to calm down. Above him, Castiel chuckled. “You’re not very good at following instructions, are you, Dean?”

“Apparently not.” Dean managed, laughing weakly. He wiggled slightly, and Castiel got the hint, allowed Dean to roll over onto his back so that he was looking up at the angel. He grinned, grinding up against Castiel in a slow thrust. “This is better, isn’t it?” Dean asked, smirking cheekily. 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed, tilting his head curiously. “Was that a challenge, Dean?” He asked, sounding almost surprised. Dean nodded triumphantly, repeating the motion. Castiel’s eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they were almost completely black with lust, only a faint rim of blue surrounding blown-out pupils. Dean’s breath caught. _Fuck_ , Cas looked _gone_ , and it was the damn hottest thing he’d seen.

With a growl, Castiel fisted a hand in Dean’s short hair, pinning the hunter against the bed. Dean gasped, then the air was abruptly punched out of his lungs as he found himself unable to move. He stared up at Castiel in wonderment, straining against invisible bonds. Castiel’s lips curled back, exposing his teeth in an animalistic grin.

“You weren’t very good at following instructions, so I thought I’d give you a little _encouragement_.” Castiel murmured, nipping at Dean’s neck, making the hunter whine. Now that he couldn’t move, every sensation increased in intensity tenfold, and Dean found himself begging, _begging_ for Cas to let him move, please let him move, let him do _something_ to escape the overstimulated torture that Castiel was inflicting upon him.

“You beg so prettily, Dean.” Castiel hissed in his ear, his stubble scraping against Dean’s skin. “But I’m afraid it won’t help you.” As he spoke, the angel ground down on Dean’s thigh, moaning as the friction sparked pleasure in a hot wave to his groin. Dean worried his bottom lip, desperate to thrust up against the angel, to coax those beautiful noises out of Castiel, but the angel, in his cruelty, kept Dean bound to the bed with invisible bonds.

Castiel let out a lewd moan, his hips stuttering as he fucked against Dean’s leg. Dean whimpered, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth as a hot spike of lust ran through him, making his cock jump and weep precum. Castiel noticed Dean’s excitement, and grinned, a predatory expression that both terrified and aroused the hunter. 

“Would you like me to touch you, Dean?” Castiel purred, tracing his nails teasing down Dean’s stomach, making the muscles jump.  
“Yes.” Dean panted desperately. “God, Cas, please touch me, please, I need your hand on my cock, god, _please, Cas_!”  
The angel took pity on him, finally, _finally_ wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock, smearing it with the precum that had collected and slowly dribbled down the hunter’s length. Dean whimpered, the feeling of Cas’ hand on his cock almost intoxicatingly good. Castiel stroked him at a painfully slow pace, even though the angel’s own hips were moving in short, jerky movements against Dean’s thigh.

“God, Cas, you’re so fucking perfect.” Dean babbled, chest heaving. “Fuck, Cas, you’re so beautiful like this, god, I wanna touch you, I wanna feel you, I want you everywhere on me, please, Cas, I want you so bad it _hurts_.”

Cas let out a low moan, ducking his head to kiss and suck at Dean’s collarbone. Dean moaned, his head lolling back in pleasure as Cas’ hand started moving faster, working him over inexpertly but with more than enough eagerness to make up for it. Cas was speaking now, words that clearly weren’t English being forced out through gritted teeth, his lips barely moving against Dean’s chest. 

Dean momentarily forgot how to breathe when Cas came. The angel looked so beautiful like that, eyes screwed shut, clinging to Dean as though he might explode if the hunter wasn’t there to anchor him, hips jerking in an uneven rhythm as he spilled his release against Dean’s leg and onto the blankets. Dean groaned, throwing his head back as his own orgasm hit him with the force of train, cock spilling white ropes of cum into Cas’ fist. 

“I hope you learned your lesson, _olpirt_.” Cas murmured sleepily a few moments later, nuzzling Dean’s neck affectionately. Dean laughed, enjoying his freedom to move as he tangled a hand in Cas’ hair, running his fingers through the angel’s dark locks.

“Consider me thoroughly educated.” Dean replied, planting a kiss to the top of Cas’ forehead. The angel let out a sleepy purr, wrapping strong arms around Dean’s chest and pulling him close.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Dean said, gingerly extricating himself from the angel’s grasp. Cas made a wounded noise, attempting to pull Dean closer again, but Dean stubbornly resisted.  
“I am not going to be the small spoon.” Dean stated defiantly. Cas laughed, and Dean flushed. “No, come on, Cas, I’m serious!” Dean protested.

“So am I.” Cas said, using his angel strength to pull Dean flush with his chest. “And you,” The angel whispered into Dean’s ear, punctuating each word with a gentle kiss to Dean’s neck and shoulder. “Are the small spoon.”

Dean grumbled halfheartedly, but settled himself more comfortably against Cas. Okay, fine, it was nice to have Cas’ arms wrapped around his chest, and even nicer to have Cas’ chest pressed against his back. Maybe he could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I had a bit of a rough week, and smut is always difficult for me to write. Hopefully it turned out well, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	18. Chapter 18

“So, what was her name?”

Cas looked up, brow furrowed with confusion. Sam looked at him pityingly, tossing their bags into the truck of the Impala.

“Come on, Cas, it’s okay to tell me.”

“I-I don’t understand who you’re referring to.” Cas replied.

Sam sighed, resting a hand on the raised lid of the trunk. “Cas, Dean wanted some “rest and relaxation.” I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“I wasn’t either.” Cas said, his confusion deepening. “What do our birthdays have to do with this situation?”

Sam resisted the urge to bang his head on the trunk. Sometimes Castiel’s naivete was truly astounding. “Dean wanted to sleep with someone at the resort. That’s why he wanted a few extra days of R&R. So, what was her name?”

Understanding dawned on the angel, and a blush slowly crept up his cheeks. He and Dean had discussed this, the possibility that Sam might pry into the kinds of things they’d done with their time alone. But hot, angry jealousy wound its way around Castiel’s insides as Sam spoke. The angel understood Dean’s reluctance to tell Sam the truth, but the idea that Dean would have used their time at the resort to get with someone else made the angel’s stomach knot.

“There was no girl.” Cas replied brusquely, lifting the last of the bags into the trunk and slamming it shut. 

Sam raised an eyebrow, letting out a quiet noise of surprise. “Really? Huh. That’s a first.”

“What’s a first?” Cas snapped, his anger bubbling to the surface. Sam gave him a sidelong look, and the angel took a breath, forcing himself to calm down.  
“Apologies. The hunt was...draining. What’s a first?” Castiel repeated, much calmer this time.

“Dean not sleeping with someone on a hunt. Usually he’s...well, he’s Dean. He gets girls.” Sam said, shrugging in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Perhaps he’s changed.” Cas suggested, fighting to keep his voice steady. He hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to keep quiet. He wanted to tell the younger hunter the truth. God knows the two hunters kept enough secrets from each other without this one staying hidden.

“Maybe.” Sam replied, his voice tinged with doubt. “But Dean’s a creature of habit. He listens to the same CDs from the 80s, eats the same meal at every rest stop and diner we go to, drives his old precious car even though it’d be safer to drive a different one. He doesn’t change unless he has to.”

Cas nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. It was true; Dean didn’t change, and he certainly didn’t allow himself any vulnerabilities. But he had. He’d told Cas his feelings for him, and now they were...what? They had slept together, danced around the topic of love, and now they were heading back to the bunker, back to their usual routine of hunting and driving around the country. Castiel tried to convince himself that he was fine; after all, he and Dean had been dancing around each other for years. Why should it be any different now?

He was pulled out of his reverie by Dean emerging from the hotel, bag in hand and a dark scowl on his face. Castiel’s immediate reaction was one of worry, fear, and he found himself instinctively taking a step backwards. 

Sam had no such qualms.

“Glad to see the R&R did you so much good.” Sam commented, raising an eyebrow. Dean glared at him, throwing his bag into the backseat with more force than absolutely necessary.

“Shut up and get in the car.” Dean snapped, barely sparing Castiel a glance before getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door closed. Castiel flinched at the loud noise, and got in the backseat as quietly as possible. He wasn’t quite sure what had caused Dean’s bad mood, but he didn’t want to be the one Dean took it out on.

“So, did you have a nice vacation?” Sam continued as though Dean hadn’t said anything. “Meet anyone nice? Make any new friends?”

“Not funny, Sam.” Dean replied shortly, shoulders tense with anger. Sam’s shit-eating grin widened, and he looked as though he was resisting the urge to laugh.

“Why, Dean, you seem irritated. I wonder what could have brought this on?”

“Shut. Up.” Dean snarled, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Castiel began to wonder if he shouldn’t just teleport to the bunker and avoid whatever was about to happen, but something anchored him to his seat and he watched, transfixed, as Sam pulled out his phone, shaking it slightly. Dean glanced down at it, then looked away so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. Cas leaned forward, curious to see what could possibly make Dean react in such a way.

The image on Sam’s phone was grainy and out of focus, but was undeniably recognizable. Castiel felt heat rush to his cheeks as he recognized the figures as himself and Dean, taken that morning as they’d gotten back from breakfast. Castiel had drunk some hot chocolate, and had gotten a bit of whipped cream on his lip. Dean had noticed, and instead of prompting Castiel to wipe it off with a napkin, his eyes had gone soft, and he’d leaned forward, brushing it away with his thumb and kissing Castiel gently.

Sam cackled gleefully as Castiel leaned back, as red-faced as Dean. “So, you guys had a good time, I take it?” He asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Asking about the girl was a diversionary tactic, I assume?” Castiel asked, slightly defeated. Sam nodded, a little apologetic.  
“Yeah, I didn’t want you knowing I’d found you two out just yet. Sorry about that.”  
Castiel nodded, lips pursed as he considered the hunter’s statement. “That’s understandable.” He said finally. “There are no hard feelings.”

Sam flashed him a quick smile, then turned back to Dean. The older hunter still hadn’t spoken, his ears and the back of his neck still alarmingly red. 

“Dean?” Castiel said quietly. 

Dean was silent for a moment longer, then he sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I guess, if Cas is fine with it...then I’m not too pissed.” Sam punched the air triumphantly, laughing joyfully. Cas met Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and smiled. Dean returned the smile, even if his was a little more strained than the angel’s. 

They drove in comfortable silence for several hours, barely speaking other than to point out the occasional landmark or state border. Castiel allowed himself to be lulled by the rhythmic noise of the car’s engine, and rested his head against the cool glass of the window. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam broke the silence, his tone slightly hesitant. 

“What?” 

“Congrats.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending, at long last! I hope you enjoyed this fic! It's been a long ride.


End file.
